Dang. It feels really good to type that.
We closed on the house a week ago today. The Anniversary Home belongs to new owners, and I'm totally okay with that. Dottie signed on the dotted line for us (yes, pun intended), the mortgage is paid off and the gravy sauce landed in our bank account on Monday. Halle-freakin-lujah.
There were a few minor traumas along the way. Cracked tile that needed to be fixed. Some issues with electrics that needed to be sorted out in 48 hours. To say this thing went down to the wire is an understatement. We really only got our final approval for sale from the township the day before closing. At 3pm. Living on the edge.
So why did it take me so long to write this post? (Or frankly, any post lately...)
I just didn't really know what to say. Do you know what I mean? I mean, we sold our house is factually accurate, but it seems way too light for all the baggage that goes along with that statement.
It's hard to describe this feeling of immense relief. Since, well, basically last August, the sale of this home has been hanging over our heads. So much of our planning revolved around if and when the home sold. It was hard to move forward with such a huge, expensive asset holding you back. But that's all taken care of now.
I've tried to imagine along the way how I'd feel today. Would I be sad? Happy? Anxious? I'm just relieved. I'm not really sad. It was fun while it lasted, and I'm thankful for the memories and the life lessons learned, but all in all, it's about moving forward. With no regrets. And I definitely have no regrets.
I left the new owners a housewarming card in the kitchen. I congratulated them on their new home and wished them all the happiness in the years to come. And I mean it. It's a good little house.