I was thirty-five years old.
I remember sitting at the table with my lawyer, the seller and his lawyer. I think the entire process took about three hours. There was so much paperwork! I signed my name so many times it made me dizzy!
I didn't own a car and the closing took place somewhere in a part of Queens I wasn't familiar with. My girlfriend was supposed to come and get me, but she forgot and went to the movies. Of course her cell phone was turned off.
So there I was, alone, in the rain with the keys to my new house. Maybe the gravity of what I had just accomplished was too overwhelming - because instead of feeling happy - I felt, really, really sad.
I began to cry as I walked towards the main thoroughfare and hailed a cab.
When arrived back to the place I had called my home since 1984 - my parents were there to congratulate me. There was no fan fare, no bottles of champagne - just "Congratulations! When are you moving?"
I called my cousin, and he and I went to Home Depot (the first of a many trips I would make there) to purchase cleaning supplies and then headed over to MY HOUSE.
My brownstone was built in 1898. It's a sturdy structure, replete with details that were popular during that era. I have always, always loved brownstones - so to finally own one was a dream come true.
But on that day, my dream was turning into a nightmare. When my cousin and I walked into MY HOUSE, the sound of the falling rain seemed to be just as loud on the inside as it was on the outside. We climbed the stairs to the top floor and lo-and-behold, what did we find?? You guessed it, a small swimming pool in my bedroom!
In the ten years that I have been here, I've replaced the roof (twice) installed two new bathrooms, painted- repainted and painted again. Spruced up the front facade, had paver stones laid in the front and backyards and dealt with two sewer catastrophes (pee-uuu!) And had to fight the fear and anger that comes along with being burglarized.
I've written nine novels in this house. NINE... and I watched my daughter grow from a girl to a woman within these very walls. I've fallen in love ONCE, while living here. My house has been shelter to friends in need and it's also been the place were friends came to gather to celebrate life! It was and still is my spiritual sanctuary.
On that rainy, dreary March 21st, 2001 I walked away with keys to my house. Ten years later, my house has become the home I always dreamed of...
4 comments:
What a lovely story, Brownstones are so lovely. Thank you for sharing your story. In love ONCE, want to share a love story too?:)
I have never owned a home. My parents owned their home. I've never experienced all the paperwork or any of it. I'll bet it's an unforgettable memory.
A beautiful story Bernice, I am thinking that all is well. I remember the signing of the papers for our first house, frightening, biggest purchase that most of us will ever make. I had to leave my house over 12 years ago and I cried, even spent an hour crying with my gardner, whom I knew I would really miss. Three years ago we moved into our new home and I am in love again. It is a very different home, my children are grown and out of the house, so now my husband and I live in a larger home than we did when we had two kids (+ every kid in the neighborhood) a dog, a hamster and a goldfish. Everytime we return to this house from a vacation, I tell my husband, I love this house, it makes me feel good. I never thought after leaving my first home that would happen, but it did.
I always loved your brownstone and dreamed that I too would own one. I did not get a brownstone but my dream came true by way of a town home in Columbia Maryland. Much like you it was the most exciting day of my life and there me and my son where looking at each other...not knowing what to do on closing day. So I look at him and said let's go get someting to eat to celebrate. It was'nt until the next day when we received the keys that reality set in that I was a home owner. I have been in love ever since. 4 yrs and counting.
Loved, loved your story about your warm and wonderful home. I hear your strong voice in every beautiful thing you write, and that's everything.
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