There is no easy way to say this: today our house was sold at a foreclosure auction.
Our home of four years now belongs to someone else. I don’t know who, but I hope it’s a young couple like we were who are buying their first house. I hope that they are people who will love it for it’s quirks: the lack of doors, the gorgeous ten foot ceilings and stained glass windows. I hope they have better luck with the roof – that it doesn’t leak and the joists don’t need to be replaced (again). I hope they bring a baby home to that house and make it work.
Right now, however, the house is only occupied by spiders and the ghosts of our memories. Moments of laughter and sadness echo in the empty rooms.
It’s over. I’m relieved to finally be able to let it go and move on. We have a nice apartment to live in now with doors and two (two!) toilets! We have neighbors who are polite, who didn’t get pissy when we asked them to turn their bass down one night. It will be awhile before we will be able to even think about moving again, let alone buying a new house, but I am determined to make the best of this crappy situation and give my daughter the best childhood she could possibly have. And if we hadn’t let the house go, I don’t know that it would have been possible.