The Ranch

Anticipatory Grieving: a grief reaction that occurs before an impending loss. 

Nailed it. 

Queen of it.

Feeling, pondering, worrying, mourning. All before the loss even occurs.

Yep, that is me. 

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I picked September arbitrarily. Circled it on my calendar months in advance and said that it was the month that my house was going on the market. I knew that I would eventually need to move. For financial reasons, for a fresh start, for the future. Since the finalizing of my divorce (2.2014), it was always in the back of my head as “someday.” So September it was. For no other reason than I needed to give myself a date,  give myself time to come to terms with the date, and then not allow myself to weasel out of it.

I called a realtor in early June to began the much dreaded process. He was so kind but questioned why I wanted to list in September, after all school is already back in session and most looking for a home in the area of my home would want to be settled before the start of the school year. There was no negotiating, September was September was September. I was set.

And then began the actual process. I painstaking sorted, purged, and prepared every inch of my home. It wasn't pretty. Not pretty at all. Anger, grief, sadness, brokenness, and hurt surfaced. I didn't stop. Plowing through so as to know that all things making the move with me would be those that exuded joy and happiness and comfort.

Mid-August hit like a crashing wave. I phoned a financial minded friend and listened as she spoke confirmation that moving was best. Best emotionally, mentally, and even financially. I trusted her. There was no question in her mind leaving me to feel as though I wasn't alone in making such a weighty decision. I'm grateful for her.

When all had all been sorted, touched up, cleaned up, scrubbed, and decluttered, I made a call to the realtor and he returned to do yet another walk through. I assumed it would take a week or so to get things set into motion putting me right on track for a September listing. But, he grabbed his camera, snapped a few pics, and stuck a sign in the front yard. 

Mid August, ready or not.

Two days passed and the listing went active. That very day, there were two showings and within two days of being on the market, it was sold. Two blessed days.

It felt surreal and instantly panic set in as I realized I had no where to go. Where was home? Where was I headed? Would I feel safe, comfortable, at peace? What had I just done? Had I just made the biggest mistake? Could I embrace even more change? Death, divorce, a job change, and now leaving behind the safe haven that was my refuge through it all. 

Friends, what unfolded over the next month is awing to reflect upon.

It was as if it was meant to be. 

I reached out to friends whom I had meant through a Bible study and it just so happened that one of their rental properties was going to be available starting September 1st. Abby and I toured it and felt unsure. It was certainly different than my house...from a 15 year old build to a 1960's home. We affectionately named it 'The Ranch.' One for the obvious reason that it is a ranch style home and the second that it reminded us of the place the Golden Girls lived in. They assured me that I could paint to help make The Ranch feel more like me.

Oddly enough, what bothered me the most about the house were the mix matched appliances. I don't know why they caught my eye when we first toured but they did. It's a rental and certainly not going to have top of the line appliances, I knew that. 

Again, lets just pause before I tell you how the appliances situ unfolded. 

At the advice of my realtor, I maintained the fridge from my home. I was guided that most rentals don't come with fridges so the white one stayed with me. After learning the rental came with a fridge, I assumed I would sell mine. And then, as I was chatting with a dear friend, she casually mentioned that their fridge had died so the decided to upgrade all their appliances and thus they were attempting sell their gently used white ones. As in a white microwave, stove, and dishwasher. You can see where this went. It was as if the stars aligned. My fridge, their other appliances, and a green light from the landlords and suddenly the little kitchen in the rental got an appliance facelift. 

Abby and I painted all the things in the rental white. White, white, and more white and suddenly the little ranch started to look at whole lot more airy. 

And Abby gloriously found the perfect couch on Craigslist. That's right, after selling the couches out of my house, we began the search for our a replacement. I was thinking new, Craigslist never crossed my mind.  I was skeptical and pondered the bugs that could come with a Craigslist find but we went to check it out armed with a signal that if one of us gave, we would quickly bail. Indeed, it was perfect. Almost new and hardly used! Our style, our color, perfect for the new space, and a third of the price of something brand new. Score. 

And, the story of how we manage to get the Craigslist couch from a downtown loft to our little ranch...just the two of us...that is an epic story for another day!  Let's just say we felt like rockstars in the process with her jeep, a borrowed trailed, and hammock ties.

And true to form, the weekend before we were set to move in, I was scheduled to be out of town at The Influence Conference. I pondered not going but knew my spirited needed the refueling. So my family manned a garage sale to finish selling what wasn't making the move and I spent time away, resting and rejuvenating. 

And as I was away, I got a text with a picture of the front of the ranch. Blooming right beside the mailbox were two little yellow flowers. It was like the icing on the cake. We were going to be just fine in the little ranch, we had our sign.

Wouldn't you know, the move went smooth. Praise goodness for friends and family who helped...and the 3890345890843 trips that we took between places so that I could go all Type A on coordinating the move. Perhaps there was a calendar. And perhaps that calendar outlined what would get packed and moved when. One room at a time. Box it, pack it, move it, unpack it, and instantly one room was done. And then repeat, room by room. 

We are settled into the ranch and I haven't looked back. Sure there are things that I miss about my home...like the jetted tub, we were one...but there are things that I have instantly come to appreciate about the ranch. It's little, and cozy, and making us feel welcomed. It feels more manageable and more financially freeing. It's a new start, a clean slate. 

The move that I long feared is behind me and our little 1960's ranch is filling the void. 

And, wouldn't you know, I'm a-o-k. 

All before September even drew to an end.  Listed, sold, moved, and settled.

As my realtor expressed, "Because God is good and when you trust him, He provides."

September, it indeed was.