The Family Home

'Don't hang on to the family home, you'll be house poor.' I've read this in articles about women and divorce and I've heard it from my friends. But the thought of selling our home makes me sick inside. Should we sell? Or should I try to keep the home where my kids have lived for the last five years? The home where they can safely ride their bikes on the dead end street, racing by the houses of my caring neighbors who supported us during my husband’s deployment. The home with the swingset in the backyard which we put up immediately after we bought the house while the kids watched excitedly. The home where we host a yearly holiday cookie swap for our friends and neighbors. The home where countless birthday parties were celebrated, the home with dreams and memories in every corner. Should we sell? I don't know.

Last weekend my daughter received a text from her friend. It said, 'You guys are moving.' My daughter was in bed and didn't see the text. I could have deleted it, ignored it and never mentioned it but then I'm sure my daughter's friend probably would have said something to her in school. My kids had no idea that we might have to move. The divorce and the illnesses that we've faced recently seemed like enough for the kids to have to worry about. When I saw that text, my heart stopped. Now was the time to tell them the cold hard truth. We might have to move.

The next morning, my kids were sitting on the couch watching TV. I took the iPod out of the cabinet where I had hidden it and showed the text to my daughter. She read it and then looked at me. I said, 'I don't know if we are going to have to move or not. We might, I need to figure that out.' My daughter said, 'If we move we'll have to change schools. I won't see my friends!' And then she immediately burst into tears. I looked at my six year old son and he said, 'Why, Mommy? Why?' How do you tell a kindergartener that you might not be able to afford your home? You just say it. 'Mommy might not have enough money to stay here since Daddy doesn't live here anymore', was how I answered his question. Was it right that I said that? Should I have brought Daddy's name into the discussion? I bet a child therapist would say no but I say hell yes. I didn't choose for any of this to happen. I will try to deal with it as best I can for the kids' sake but I won't pretend that any of this was what I wanted.

Now that the kids know, it's both easier and harder. I don't have the burden of keeping it from them anymore. But now I have to answer the questions.

Where will we move? Probably closer to Grandma and Grandpa.

But I don't want to leave my friends! I know but we have to figure out what the best thing to do is.

How much does it cost to live here? A lot.

Don't you have enough in your bank account to pay for it? No, I don't.

I won't have any friends in Grandma's town. You'll make friends.

I don't want to move. I know. 

Are we REALLY going to have to move? I don't know, we'll figure it out.

It's exhausting to think about putting our home on the market. But there are reasons other than financial ones to sell. When I have the energy, I need to look at those reasons. Weigh them. Dissect them. Obsess over them. What to do? I don't know. That question spins in my mind incessantly now.