It's Been a Year.
It’s Been a Year.
Some years change you, and then some years undo you. 2023, and 2024 felt like standing in an emotional earthquake, Everything I counted on was reduced to rubble. People crumbled, plans unraveled, illusions fell hard to the ground. But as I look back now, with some of the smoke clearing and silence settling in, I begin to see it wasn’t destruction for its own sake. It was a reckoning, a necessary collapse to reveal what I couldn’t stand any longer. And in that uncomfortable clarity, I’m beginning to find some space to rebuild.
Caution: Challenging Year Ahead
Divorce.
Selling a home.
Home renovations.
Selling a business.
Empty nest.
Ex-husband diagnosed with Frontal Temporal Dementia, early-onset.
Leaving the state I’ve called home for most of my life.
Managing life as a single person.
Searching for a new job/career.
Trying to embrace complete uncertainty, and change.
Losing The House
One of the hardest things to let go of was my house. This house where I raised my kids, snuggled on the couch as we watched cooking shows, walked to school down the tree-lined creek path, and painted the walls a different color when I wanted something new and bright. Oh, did I mention it backed up to the golf course and had mountain views, nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac? Letting it go wasn’t about losing a piece of real estate it was about losing the version of me that believed I’d grow old there or at the least had a safety net in this crazy world.
I did the math to see if I could keep it, of course. It would have put me at a severe disadvantage economically. In today’s market, buying again feels almost impossible. I had a very reasonable mortgage, a super low monthly payment. Like, REALLY low. Now? My story isn’t new. Homes are priced out of reach, and interest rates have made it nearly impossible to start over without taking on a mountain of debt. As a woman of a certain age, I feel the weight of that. Too seasoned to start from scratch, too young to give up, and somehow priced out of the life I built. It’s a story we hear every day.
I’m realizing there’s grief in losing a home like that. Not just for what it was, but for what it meant. It was my anchor. Now, I’m learning to redefine what home means without a front porch or deed to show for it. And, it’s scary for sure.