Today my assignment is to take two published posts on a common theme, combine them, and make them into something new. The posts—For Sale: My Abbey and My Abbey, Still My Sweet Home—tell the story of my unsuccessful attempt to move to a different home in the Maples.
March 2016. When I moved into my Abbey in October 2010, I told everyone, including myself, there would be no more moves. It was my dream home. I planned to stay there until I died or was carried out.
And I meant it. I meant it so much, I would have staked my life on it.
When I started this blog, it was so easy coming up with the name Home Sweet Abbey. Since then I’ve written, and many of you have read, lots of posts describing how wonderful my home and Maples at the Sonatas are. And I have meant every word of them.
But I had forgotten two crucial truths: Never say never. And things never stay the same. So…
It has now been three months since I first walked into the home that I have come to think of as the Palazzo on the Pond. It called to me; it sang my name. It is a dream of a stand-alone home in Phase 3 of our community.
The whole thing began as a day dream. I had to convince myself to take a chance and try to make that Palazzo mine. There were a number of hurdles, and there were many times I was sure I was reaching too high. One huge problem—I was almost positive that I couldn’t afford it. But after asking lots of questions, I learned that the financing could work out if I could sell my Abbey first.
Rather than reassuring me, that knowledge scared me half to death. Just because it was possible, did I want to do it? Did I really want to go through the stress and hard work of packing up and moving again? Did I really want to uproot myself and my two elderly cats from a home where we were so happy and comfortable? Did I really want to start over with decorating? Most of all, could I even break the strong emotional attachment I have to my Abbey?
When doubts would overwhelm me, I would go back to the Palazzo, walk through the rooms, look at the views, take a lot of deep breaths, and eventually say, Yes, I do want to do this.
And that is why, on Friday morning, I signed a contract to buy the Palazzo on the Pond, contingent on the sale of my Abbey.
April 2016. Yesterday I signed another sheet of paper, and one of my biggest adventures came to an end. A new buyer had fallen in love with my Palazzo, one whose cash offer trumped my contingency. So I had no choice but to officially void my contract.
Certainly, I knew all along it could happen. The problem is, for four months I have allowed myself to live in a bubble of false security.
Do I regret those four months? Not at all. It was quite a trip while it lasted, and I’m grateful for the experience. Perhaps most importantly, it reaffirmed the support I am blessed to receive from my friends, neighbors, and the Wilcox staff.
I am further blessed to still have my Abbey, the home that I was always reluctant to leave. With it off the market now, I can fully relax, reclaiming it as a private home rather than a property to market.
It’s time to start a new chapter.
January 2018. It has been 21 months, and I’m not totally convinced I have started that new chapter. Do I still think about the Palazzo on the Pond? Sometimes, especially when I drive or walk by it.
When Mom passed last year and left me an inheritance, I thought about it again. I didn’t receive enough money to buy a Palazzo, but it was enough to make a very nice down payment. However, the timing did not work out. Is that because it wasn’t meant to be? I don’t know.
When a new Palazzo goes up, I wonder if I could like this one as much. So far, I have found a reason why I don’t. It doesn’t have the water view. It’s not as upgraded. But that also means it’s more affordable and more possible and … I don’t know.
I’m still extremely happy where I am. The older I get, the more comfortable I am.
But if I could EVER make a big decision AND. STICK. TO. IT., it would be a miracle.