the little house that wasn't meant to be...

image courtesy HGTV

I'm looking for a new home. A place to call my own. A house that's smaller and easier to maintain than my present home. A house that I can call a home. A house that the children can call home. I don't want anything too large, just large enough to accommodate a family of four. The boys need some space to run around both inside and outside. My criteria isn't too long. I'm not too demanding. My needs, at this point, are pretty simple.

Last week I saw a house. A perfect house. A perfect home. She was an expanded cape built in 1941. She was the charm of yesteryear, well built, beautiful arches and moldings... newly refinished hardwood floors... newly installed carpeting in the bedrooms and den. This little house sat at the edge of a river. Her surroundings were peaceful, relaxing. Inside she evoked the same sense of calm. She was a happy house. She gave off a good vibe. Immediately I could imagine all my children here, at home, happy. The boys could run around outdoors and walk along the river. I imagined Rebecca having sleepovers with her girlfriends out on the three season porch, windows open, the soothing sounds of the waters rushing past. In the wintertime we could huddle together in front of the fireplace. As I walked through the house with my realtor, my good friend, I started to imagine myself in this house. I started to imagine the children in this house... in this home... our home.

Upstairs, down the hall from two nicely sized bedrooms was the master bedroom. She boasted Cathedral ceilings and a magnificent view of the river below. I started decorating the space with my eyes. I knew where, exactly, I would place my bed. I would wake up every morning greeted by the sun above and the river below. How magnificent! I simply had to have this house! This house had my name written all over it. This home had my name written all over it.

How dangerous this had become. We hadn't left and I had already moved in... I pictured my morning coffee by the water... I pictured sitting at my desk, writing, waters rushing by. So serene, tranquil, inspiring!

My realtor rushed me out of the house. We had more to see. And if I was considering making an offer I would have to do so immediately. This house would go quickly. So we called the listing agent as we drove off to other houses and made our offer. The other houses were all wrong. All wrong for me. All wrong for my children.

As I sat and waited. And waited and waited and waited to find out my housing fate I continued to visually move into the house. I continued to decorate and place furniture. I continued to daydream. I was starting to navigate choppy waters, I knew this. There were three other offers besides my own. Every other offer was higher than mine. This wasn't looking good. I'd have to leave it up to fate. I started to pray. I don't pray. I make wishes when the time on the clock reads 11:11. I makes wishes when I blow out Birthday candles, but I don't pray.

I got the word late on Friday afternoon. I did not get the house. I wasn't devastated as I was realistic to my situation. I was sad, of course, I was disappointed, of course. And so, this turned out to be the little house that was not meant to be... I'm OK with that. Things have a way of working themselves out, I hope!

Have you ever done that? Have you ever wanted something so badly that you started to envision your life with it or in it?

XOXO

Jessica