A Year Later

June marks one year in our new home. While each year has it’s own set of challenges, I look back on the first year in our home with extreme gratitude and happiness.

It was last winter, and we were beset with anxiety over our home. We had bought the house only three years earlier, not knowing the challenges that lie ahead that made our home nearly impossible to stay in long term. It was a trifecta of problems.

It began after our 4th child, Martha, was born with a disability. As she neared two years old, it became apparent that we  needed main floor living to accommodate caring for her long term. But, our home was over 100 years old, the bathroom and bedrooms upstairs, with no extra space on the main floor. Plans were drawn to add a bathroom and bedroom for Martha on the main floor, and we started getting estimates from builders. But, as we learned quickly, the cost of remodeling an old home are high. So high, that it made more financial sense to knock down the house and start from scratch.

What’s the rush, you might ask? Martha was only two, and realistically, even if it took several more years for her to walk, why not just do some push-ups and train to carry her up the stairs for the long haul? The problem was that after Martha was born I became very sick with Rheumatoid Arthritis. Despite my motivation to provide the best care for Martha, physically carrying Martha up and down our large staircase several times a day was taking its toll.

We were unsure of what to do. We weren’t prepared to sell our home, a home that had been in the family for many years, and held treasured memories for extended family. The cost of remodeling seemed imprudent, not knowing if our house would ever be worth what we’d need to put into it. And because the house was so old, we either needed to start putting some money into improvements now, or jump ship. Nothing seemed obvious.

It might sound trivial to say to that our housing situation lead us to prayer, but it did, and anyone who has ever been beleaguered with housing will understand the desperation of needing guidance for such a huge decision. I also cried a lot. Our house had rapidly gone from Dream Home to a worst-case scenario for our family, and because living there  was becoming so physically difficult, it made me resentful.

Then, one late night in March a friend texted me a link to a house that had just gone on the market. I ran to the computer, and spent the next several hours pulling up county maps and property information. I very casually mentioned to my husband that a nice sized home on one level was on the market, and it checked all our boxes for what we’d need in a house. Understandably, currently owning a home with no definite plans to sell it, he was quite hesitant to consider a showing. No pressure, I assured him, I was curious about the layout, wanted to scope out the market, and that I’d like to schedule a showing, but that he wouldn’t even need to go. I just wanted to see this place.

We ended up at the showing together, and walking through the home was like an answered prayer unfolding before my eyes. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, all on one level, with an office, and acreage. No more stairs, no more worrying about caring for Martha, no more husband trying to work from home at the kitchen table. Location, prime.

Now, to convince my husband.

We came home from the showing, and I cried. My children looked at me perplexed as I bawled over how THIS was it. THIS is what we were going to do. I knew it. I knew the second I walked in the door, by the overwhelming peace of my heart that had been absent for almost two years. My husband scheduled a second showing a week later, which I declined to attend. After so much uncertainty over what to do, I had no more doubts. I didn’t need to see the house again, because for the first time in a long time, I had the confidence to know what direction we needed to go.

We bought the house.

Our whole spring and summer was consumed with the selling of our old home and moving into our new one. It all worked out in the end. We’re happier now. Our daughter especially. She still isn’t able to walk, but with everyone on the same level, no one is ever too far away. My own life is markedly easier, too, the strain on my joints lessened immensely by the absence of stairs and the need to carry Martha so much.

Only two months after moving to our new home, Martha needed surgery on her spine. She faces bilateral hip surgery in the not too distant future, among several other potential orthopaedic surgeries. Positioning her and carrying her safely has been, and will be vital for healing. She uses a wheelchair now that can access every room in our house, and allow her the independence due her age. Being able to provide that for her helps us sleep at night. We no longer worry about moving, remodeling, or things like lead abatement and asbestos removal (things remodeling our old house would have required).

We invited all of our local family members over for a Memorial Day party last weekend. A year in our house, there were a whooping 60+ family members spread across our home and property. Martha sat by a plastic kiddie pool pouring water into a bucket, dumping it out, and repeating over and over again, while we ate and visited next to her. Having our loved ones see Martha happy, and their support for us moving just down the road, means the world.

Here’s to many more happy memories.