Almost the first thing the real estate agent told me was “you’re not downsizing – you’re simplifying your life.”
That was her way of making me feel better about the tough decision I and so many other Boomers are making these days – to sell the homes where we are secure and comfortable, and the leave the gardens we cultivated and nurtured for years – in order to achieve financial flexibility, another code word for our times. (Think: 401K downsized to 101K.)
I did a lot of sighing during the preparations for selling in a tough market. I decluttered, cleaned, and hired help to make minor repairs and provide a fresh coat of paint where needed. I worked like never before in my garden, cutting back my overabundant vines and unsculpted shrubs, redefining beds and edges, and mulching to the max.
It worked. To my pleasant surprise, my home sold in 10 days. The nighttime tossing and turning I endured trying to prepare myself for rude strangers, terrified pets, constant tidying and hiding of the routine evidence that someone was actually living in my home suddenly was over.
In the midst of all this came a terrifying realization: I now had 60 days to find a new place to live.
And it would be my first-ever search to buy a house entirely on my own at an age when my parents retired in the home they owned outright.
At this point, the sleepless nights returned with a fearful chatter in my head. Now I was tramping around in other people’s homes, trying in vain to visualize myself in these foreign spaces, babbling to friends and colleagues about the stress.
You see, the beloved home is also a storage unit for three generations, so the actual move will be a logistical nightmare of divvying, giving away, and tossing, before the moving.
After a few hints, my son offered to come home to help sort through his stuff to see what could be given away and what should to be saved. I need to continue looking at houses, I said. “Great,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”
The pleasant surprise that he seemed really interested was multiplied by what followed. He was positive, supportive, and wise in assessing my needs and tastes, and gently nudging me toward a good choice. Before I knew it, the stress was melting away. I selected a house and made an offer that was accepted.
Six weeks and counting down now, I’m actually looking forward to fluffing a new nest and digging in new ground. And I keep thanking my son for his tender care when I needed it most.
The blessings that really make a home were with me all along.
-Donna Rohrer