Taking a Leap and Dusting Off a Dream

A few years ago, we were almost in a house.  It was almost perfect for us—three bedrooms, a deck with a nice backyard, a quiet neighborhood.  The only drawback was it had two stories, but the master bedroom was downstairs, and I envisioned an eventual chair lift to get up the stairs to what would have been the boys’ rooms and bathroom.  Plus, the location, neighborhood, landscape possibilities, and the Wolfpack Red front door won over my heart the first time we saw it.  The master bath was spacious, the floor plan would have easily allowed for my wheelchair, and the kitchen had a great view of the backyard, along with easy access to the outside.  We had started to talk about it as our house, having done everything the realtor had asked of us, saved and scrimped, put off vacations, mini trips, superfluous shopping and eating out, hoping for the day that we would have our house warming.

I guess in having such a great desire to be homeowners, we must have also had “suckers” stamped across our foreheads.  Our credit was not the best in the world, not owning much, having lots of mounting medical bills, and late payments here and there.  Not pretty, but very real.  We are like a lot of people, working hard, plodding along, trying to keep a roof over our heads and provide for our boys.  We are a far cry from big time ballers.  But we wanted what most families want—a nice, comfortable home to call our own, a yard to piddle in, and a front porch (I’ll settle for a nice deck or patio) to sit and chill on late summer nights with my husband.  Even though we did everything, followed all of the rules, waited patiently, and believed everything we were being told about our loan, it finally became obvious that we were not going to close anytime soon.  The run around and double speak ensued, and we left that deal with our earnest money returned, grateful that we walked away without losing any money, just our dreams and our pride.  The owner of the house called a little later and asked if we still wanted to try to get the house, but by then my husband was rightfully angry and said that unless the price came down considerably or something else happened to compensate for all of the time and efforts we had already invested… you can fill in the rest.  By this time, we were done with the realtor, the house’s owner, and the mortgage broker, all of whom we decided were probably in cahoots with each other.  The trust necessary in such a serious financial undertaking had been broken, and we felt used, but very thankful that God did not allow us to fall into a trap that we could not see.  Who knew?  We could have been set up in one of those bad mortgage deals that would have only benefitted the sellers and the mortgage firm, and could have found ourselves in jeopardy of losing our home or struggling to pay an overpriced mortgage with lots of hidden extra costs that we would now be responsible for.  This was my way of rationalizing our loss.

We ended up moving into a house, but it is a rental.  We must abide by the rules of our lease, so that means no dog for Jalen, which he really wants.  It would be so nice if we had more room and wider spaces, a dishwasher, and if the laundry room were inside of the house and easily accessible.  I will refrain from rehashing my shower woes from my previous post.  But the trade offs are that the neighbors are really nice, Jalen has some friends to play with in the neighborhood, and the location is near many conveniences for us, including the school bus stop.  Since living here, we have done a good job of continuing to pinch our pennies.  Our savings may be meager, but several big medical bills and a dependable second car have been paid in full, and that was no small feat.  That’s why I know without a shadow of  a doubt that if we can maintain like we have done with our pared down income,  pay an overpriced-for-what-we-get-in-return rent and high utility bills (The City of Rocky Mount ought to be ashamed), then I know we can handle a house and a mortgage.   

I feel ready to try again, that maybe this time will be the right time.  We have had to tighten our belts to stave off the substantial loss of income from my now being disabled and receiving Social Security, but it makes me appreciate what we do have—a roof over our heads, food and warmth, and family love.  I feel a little hopeful when I start thinking about trying one more time to get a house of our own, one where I can live out my days and be happy.  It doesn’t have to be, it can’t be with our limited funds, a huge McMansion, but a single level house of about 1500-1800 square feet would be enough for me, my family, and a dog.  I see a front porch and maybe a deck. I can get into the house by rolling on a ramp, and not pulling myself up step by step, leaning on a rickety rail for balance and dragging my foot, praying I don’t fall (like I have done once—thank God for Duke and Jalen).  If there is no deck, at least there is an easily accessible back door into the yard.  Where we currently live, the only way to get to the backyard, which is really nice and spacious, is to go out of the house (which requires going down some steps), walk around the side of the house, and enter through the gate into the backyard. The grassy, rooted path to the back also makes a walk to enjoy the yard near impossible for me; I can only enjoy the backyard by looking at it through the window.   Inside the house, there is enough space to maneuver in my wheelchair, and the bathrooms are big enough to accommodate a tub transfer bench and I have a handheld shower wand, so it doesn’t take me an hour to recover and get dressed after showering.  We have a dishwasher and the laundry room is in the house.  I can manage more autonomously in the kitchen without fear of falling, setting a fire, or otherwise hurting myself.  There is enough room to put everything, including an office/workspace for me, my books, and my creative endeavors.  Duke has room for his man cave, which can double for a space for Jordan to stay when he comes home to visit.   And Jalen has a basketball goal and a dog.  Yes, this would work for me, and I am daring to dream, one more time.