When my husband got a job back in the US in June, the first thing that we focused on was selling the house. We knew it would be a huge feat, so I think we wanted to be as proactive as possible and get it out of the way as soon as we could.
My next 3.5 weeks was consumed with packing every square inch of the house - boxing our lives up and getting it ready to ship to Chicago. Without the help of my husband, I had to enlist in some help from a couple of friends. I was also still responsible for my (then) 2 year old - so there were certainly a lot of long breaks and distractions that went along with that.
The moving truck came and everything was loaded -- my entire life...in a truck...en route to Chicago.
Was it hard? Not at the time. In fact, I'm still very surprised at how easy I was able to keep things 'strictly business'. It wasn't until my very last day in the house (sitting in the very same spot I sat the day I took possession of it, some 8 years earlier) that it finally hit me. The rush of sadness, guilt and pain hit me like a ton of bricks...and I bawled. But not for long, just a short moment, and then I stopped.
That's when I realized that no matter where I was - whether it was in that home, or in the US or in the North Pole -- the memories that we created as a family would always be with me. The house was just a house. Selling it was definitely a challenge, but in the end, I gained some very valuable experience from it.
My next house-buying journey will begin soon. I'd be lying if I said that I'm not extremely nervous (watching too much Holmes on Homes). I hope that the experience is pleasant, but somehow, I don't think I'll have that kind of luck.
I hope to share my experiences on the blog, so stay tuned...