Pt. 3 — The Dream Home that Wasn’t

“You’re making a face. Why are you making a face?” My sister asked as we stood on The Dream Home’s front porch waiting for an agent who never showed.

The Dream Home was listed 10k less than last year’s asking price, plus all new paint, appliances, and roof. I thought it was a sign and made an appointment to see it with my sister as my rational ally.

But the place looked different in the winter. The hill seemed much more narrow than I remembered, even if the view was gorgeous.

My sister was right. I was making a face. I didn’t like the hill. Or how the neighbor’s French drains along the retaining wall looked like starboard cannons pointed at our house with no gutter to catch whatever may spout forth from them. Or how tricky entering and exiting the driveway would be with the neighbor’s big RAM truck parked RIGHT. THERE. Or how the other neighbor’s ugly tree was accosting that home’s power lines.

I did go back and see the inside. It was beautiful and move-in ready — The home I had always wanted. As I was catching my breath at the top of the third floor stairs, I realized my time for that dream had passed. The house not only looked different in the winter, but seemed much more mammoth when need changed from a home for four to one for three — and it wouldn’t be long until it was just me and my creaky knees and aches and pains.

I realized that the house is the same but I have changed so much in the past year. And I guess my dream has changed too.