Meant to Be
Fourteen years ago, on my first visit overseas to meet my future husband's family, his father unexpectedly had a heart attack and passed away. It was quite the introduction to everyone, it has to be said. Shocking, devastating, but I was glad I could be there for my at-the-time boyfriend.
Not long after that, my mother in law went to see a medium who told her that her late husband would leave white feathers for her when he was visiting. She did see a few around that year at apt times in meaningful places.
Years later, after a few months of marriage, my husband and I were looking for our first house together. We went hunting a few days, not long, before we found one that we were pretty sure we liked. We put a bid on it that was accepted, but there was still another house I wanted to see. Also, my parents, with whom I am very close, hadn't had the chance to see it.
The weekend after our acceptance, we went to see the other house I was interested in, and I was unsure if I liked that one better. We took my parents to "our" house, and as soon as we walked in, my mom knew we had made the right decision. She much preferred ours.
And so we had a house, which was very exciting; however, the prospect of affording it was slightly intimidating as I didn't yet have a job. We went outside, stood across the street, and looked at our first home together with a mix of anxiety and excitement.
My father, who knew nothing about my mother in law's medium experience said, "Hey, look at that cloud over your house. It looks exactly like a feather."
There, above our house, was a wispy cloud, unmistakably a white feather. Though my husband and I aren't overly spiritual or faithful people, we couldn't deny how eerie it was. We knew everything would be okay, that this was the house for us.
Incidentally, I got a phone call that night to come in for a job interview the next day, and I've worked every day since then.
It's seven years later. We love our little house. We love our neighbors. We like the walks we can take in our neighborhood. But we want something bigger now that we're looking to expand our family, and we'd like it to be in an area with better schools. (I know I said all of this already.)
We thought about moving two years ago and even had the privilege of viewing a house that would have been a dream to own. A Tudor number that was impeccably decorated. After seeing it, I wrote the owners a thank you note, and they invited us to come back and see it again. But no matter how much we wanted it, we couldn't make it affordable. That house actually went back on the market this year, and we looked at it again. However, the new owners are very inflexible about their asking price, so it's still not doable.
Meanwhile, spurred on by the promise of better school systems, we spent a few weekends looking. At first, our efforts were saddening. We found a lot of places that looked great online but were much smaller than anticipated when we saw them in person. Nothing I wanted to go through to hassle of moving to, no matter how good the school systems are supposed to be.
And then we found a house online that looked beautiful and was having an open house. We went, and it was so much better than the pictures even made it out to be. Unfortunately, the owners didn't want a contingency. But our agents stayed in touch, and when, several weeks later, there still weren't any offers on the house, we made one, and it was accepted, contingency and all.
It was amazing, and our excitement about the new house has been palpable. But we knew we still had to get ours on the market and sell it. That can be quite a process, or so we've heard, as that was a step we didn't have to go through before.
Our house went on the market Sunday night/Monday morning. By that afternoon, my realtor told me that a couple wanted to see it on Wednesday. Tuesday we had a photographer come over, and the pictures he took came out beautifully. Wednesday I showed the house. Due to our two cats, we decided not to put a lock box on, that someone would have to be home to show it.
I placed the couple that came to see it around late 20s or early 30s. They had the woman's father with them, and he came in a handyman van. It made me a little nervous. Our house isn't perfect, needs some touch ups. That fact had been keeping my husband up for a few nights worrying about the things we should have fixed and whether or not they would keep anyone from buying the house.
I did my best to get a feel for how the couple liked the house. They were there for 20 minutes or so and looked everywhere, even in the never-used unfinished attic. I overheard them saying the boiler would have to be replaced soon. The father asked me about water, which we do get a small bit of in a small part of the basement, and I was honest about that with him. When they left, I laid on my bed and started to text my husband, and I heard voices. I looked out the window and saw that the company were back there, and they stayed for maybe 10 minutes or so. That had to be promising.
And 10 minutes after that, my agent called and said they were very interested. They hadn't seen a financial adviser yet, but they would be doing so the next day, and then we would hear from them.
It sounded very promising, but I knew that it could end up not working out. I was a little sad when we didn't hear anything for awhile yesterday. I was on the phone with my mom in the evening, and she was just asking if we had heard from Realtor, when my call waiting pinged, and Realtor was on the other line.
I switched over. "Are you ready to sell your house?" she asked.
She had just e-mailed us a "love letter," as she called it, from the buyers. It was a beautiful story. They said they'd been looking for months, and as soon as they walked in, they knew our house was the one for them. They're high school sweethearts, have been together for nine years, and are expecting a baby. They have a dog who will love our large backyard. They can see our house being their forever home, a great place to raise their "bundle of joy."
(Note: I am crying as I type this because of house beautiful it is, but even at that, if you're reading this, and you know me personally, please do me a favor and NEVER call my future progeny a "bundle of joy." I hate this overused, hackneyed, exhausted phrase. Thanks.)
I cried then, and every time I have thought of it or read it since, I cry more. They're going to give us almost our full asking price. My husband literally danced around our bedroom. My realtor laughed and said, "This does happen, but it's really rare." Crazily, no one has asked to come see the house over this weekend, so the advice is to take the offer, and that's what we're going to do.
Wow. Two days on the market, and its sold.
I'm rather in shock myself. I can't believe how fast this entire process has happened. Of course there's so much more to do, papers to sign, inspections to have, etc. But I'm not worried about that. All of this has gone so beyond smoothly at this point.
Everyone I've shown our future home to can't believe the price we're getting it for, which we can't, either. That makes the fact that no one else even bid on it hard to believe. Why would that be, for a place so beautiful and spacious?
"Because it's meant to be," my mother says every time I ask.
And, again, even though I don't lean into faith and the unknown all the time, is there really any other explanation at this point?
It was meant to be.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" one of my co-workers said when I told him this morning.
Of course, he and I are both Jewish, so I said to him, "Can we make it a Hannukah miracle? Because I could use another eight days of miracles."
Okay, so really I could use another 10, and then another 10 after that.
There's a feeling that, with so much going right, I may have used up all my good luck.
I hope not. I hope this is just the beginning of what's promising to be an absolutely amazing year.
Not long after that, my mother in law went to see a medium who told her that her late husband would leave white feathers for her when he was visiting. She did see a few around that year at apt times in meaningful places.
Years later, after a few months of marriage, my husband and I were looking for our first house together. We went hunting a few days, not long, before we found one that we were pretty sure we liked. We put a bid on it that was accepted, but there was still another house I wanted to see. Also, my parents, with whom I am very close, hadn't had the chance to see it.
The weekend after our acceptance, we went to see the other house I was interested in, and I was unsure if I liked that one better. We took my parents to "our" house, and as soon as we walked in, my mom knew we had made the right decision. She much preferred ours.
And so we had a house, which was very exciting; however, the prospect of affording it was slightly intimidating as I didn't yet have a job. We went outside, stood across the street, and looked at our first home together with a mix of anxiety and excitement.
My father, who knew nothing about my mother in law's medium experience said, "Hey, look at that cloud over your house. It looks exactly like a feather."
There, above our house, was a wispy cloud, unmistakably a white feather. Though my husband and I aren't overly spiritual or faithful people, we couldn't deny how eerie it was. We knew everything would be okay, that this was the house for us.
Incidentally, I got a phone call that night to come in for a job interview the next day, and I've worked every day since then.
It's seven years later. We love our little house. We love our neighbors. We like the walks we can take in our neighborhood. But we want something bigger now that we're looking to expand our family, and we'd like it to be in an area with better schools. (I know I said all of this already.)
We thought about moving two years ago and even had the privilege of viewing a house that would have been a dream to own. A Tudor number that was impeccably decorated. After seeing it, I wrote the owners a thank you note, and they invited us to come back and see it again. But no matter how much we wanted it, we couldn't make it affordable. That house actually went back on the market this year, and we looked at it again. However, the new owners are very inflexible about their asking price, so it's still not doable.
Meanwhile, spurred on by the promise of better school systems, we spent a few weekends looking. At first, our efforts were saddening. We found a lot of places that looked great online but were much smaller than anticipated when we saw them in person. Nothing I wanted to go through to hassle of moving to, no matter how good the school systems are supposed to be.
And then we found a house online that looked beautiful and was having an open house. We went, and it was so much better than the pictures even made it out to be. Unfortunately, the owners didn't want a contingency. But our agents stayed in touch, and when, several weeks later, there still weren't any offers on the house, we made one, and it was accepted, contingency and all.
It was amazing, and our excitement about the new house has been palpable. But we knew we still had to get ours on the market and sell it. That can be quite a process, or so we've heard, as that was a step we didn't have to go through before.
Our house went on the market Sunday night/Monday morning. By that afternoon, my realtor told me that a couple wanted to see it on Wednesday. Tuesday we had a photographer come over, and the pictures he took came out beautifully. Wednesday I showed the house. Due to our two cats, we decided not to put a lock box on, that someone would have to be home to show it.
I placed the couple that came to see it around late 20s or early 30s. They had the woman's father with them, and he came in a handyman van. It made me a little nervous. Our house isn't perfect, needs some touch ups. That fact had been keeping my husband up for a few nights worrying about the things we should have fixed and whether or not they would keep anyone from buying the house.
I did my best to get a feel for how the couple liked the house. They were there for 20 minutes or so and looked everywhere, even in the never-used unfinished attic. I overheard them saying the boiler would have to be replaced soon. The father asked me about water, which we do get a small bit of in a small part of the basement, and I was honest about that with him. When they left, I laid on my bed and started to text my husband, and I heard voices. I looked out the window and saw that the company were back there, and they stayed for maybe 10 minutes or so. That had to be promising.
And 10 minutes after that, my agent called and said they were very interested. They hadn't seen a financial adviser yet, but they would be doing so the next day, and then we would hear from them.
It sounded very promising, but I knew that it could end up not working out. I was a little sad when we didn't hear anything for awhile yesterday. I was on the phone with my mom in the evening, and she was just asking if we had heard from Realtor, when my call waiting pinged, and Realtor was on the other line.
I switched over. "Are you ready to sell your house?" she asked.
She had just e-mailed us a "love letter," as she called it, from the buyers. It was a beautiful story. They said they'd been looking for months, and as soon as they walked in, they knew our house was the one for them. They're high school sweethearts, have been together for nine years, and are expecting a baby. They have a dog who will love our large backyard. They can see our house being their forever home, a great place to raise their "bundle of joy."
(Note: I am crying as I type this because of house beautiful it is, but even at that, if you're reading this, and you know me personally, please do me a favor and NEVER call my future progeny a "bundle of joy." I hate this overused, hackneyed, exhausted phrase. Thanks.)
I cried then, and every time I have thought of it or read it since, I cry more. They're going to give us almost our full asking price. My husband literally danced around our bedroom. My realtor laughed and said, "This does happen, but it's really rare." Crazily, no one has asked to come see the house over this weekend, so the advice is to take the offer, and that's what we're going to do.
Wow. Two days on the market, and its sold.
I'm rather in shock myself. I can't believe how fast this entire process has happened. Of course there's so much more to do, papers to sign, inspections to have, etc. But I'm not worried about that. All of this has gone so beyond smoothly at this point.
Everyone I've shown our future home to can't believe the price we're getting it for, which we can't, either. That makes the fact that no one else even bid on it hard to believe. Why would that be, for a place so beautiful and spacious?
"Because it's meant to be," my mother says every time I ask.
And, again, even though I don't lean into faith and the unknown all the time, is there really any other explanation at this point?
It was meant to be.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" one of my co-workers said when I told him this morning.
Of course, he and I are both Jewish, so I said to him, "Can we make it a Hannukah miracle? Because I could use another eight days of miracles."
Okay, so really I could use another 10, and then another 10 after that.
There's a feeling that, with so much going right, I may have used up all my good luck.
I hope not. I hope this is just the beginning of what's promising to be an absolutely amazing year.
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