“I’ve always felt very temporary about myself.” -John Cusack, portraying the character of Martin Blank in the 1997 dark humor film Grosse Pointe Blank.
Several years ago one evening I was at the local grocery store after work, quietly debating with myself the importance of the word “organic”, when I received a call informing me that the middle-aged and seemingly healthy landlord of the condominium I was renting had unexpectedly passed away several months prior. Upon overcoming the initial shock of being told the mortgage wasn’t being paid and the bank should be showing up any moment to change the locks, I took it as a sign to buy my own home (and more organic food). I had some money saved up, a good credit score, and a realtor in the family. It didn’t take long to find a turn-key place to call my own in a quiet neighborhood not far from my stomping grounds. I had become a first-time homeowner.
If I had to describe owning a house with a single phrase, it would be, “It’s always something.” A never-ending and expensive list of cleaning, fixing, replacing, and maintaining. All things I quickly determined I had no desire to spend my time doing. My top three priorities in life are making a positive difference in this world, maintaining my physical and mental health, and continuing my education. I cannot adequately focus on any of these passions with a garage door that won’t open and mailbox full of warning letters from my homeowner association.
“It served its purpose”, one of my friends recently remarked as the “for sale” sign went up in front of that very same house in preparation for this new job. Only I’m still not quite sure what exactly that purpose was. The impermanence of it all never seemed to go away, like its two stories, yard, and two-car garage were nothing more than a place to temporarily keep a bunch of stuff I really didn’t need. Subconsciously I didn’t feel the desire to grow roots. Now that the “sold” portion of the sign has been attached, I feel liberated. And to top it all off, I don’t have to buy another one anytime soon.
In the future I’ll talk about my personal definition of the word “home” and what it means to me. The person who knows me best in this world coincidentally reached out just hours before I heard the news of the final sale. Their words and my feelings are one and the same, “Everything is exactly as it should be, everything is falling into place.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
To my real estate agent and friend, thank you. Completing this sale from so far away would not have been possible without you and your first-hand knowledge of my unique career path. You are the best type of person and I am lucky to have met you.
The Dark Passport 