Out of respect for all the people around the world who are legitimately without a home, I refrained from titling this 'Homeless,' but I did feel a bit homeless when we sold our Wichita home without a place of our own in Kentucky.
Coming to Kentucky without knowing how long we would continue to pay for a vacant house in Wichita wasn't easy. That no one was interested in looking at the vacant house didn't help.
In some ways I think that if the house would have had more traffic, it would have been easier for me to wait even longer for it to sell. As it was, the waiting was not easy. I would go through each day waiting for a phone call, a text, an e-mail to let us know someone was interested in the house. Only two came.
The first couple who looked at our house was unable to secure a loan for it. The second couple, it seemed, wouldn't have that problem.
In mid-June, our realtor called us with our very first offer. The second couple was relocating from Missouri to Wichita. The husband was retired from the military and had just agreed to take on a six-figure contract position in Kansas. They wanted our tiny house to transition -- to live in until they found a home worthy of their standards and then would rent ours out or let their son live in it. It wasn't my ideal version of the new owners for our home.
The offer wasn't ideal either. It was below what we would need to break even on the house. After an evening of back and forth, though, Johnie and I agreed to an offer from them just below what we owed on the house. The buyers pointed out that if we didn't close on the house in two months we'd pay more in mortgage payments than we would be bringing to the table with their offer anyway.
And that was the reasoning that forced us to cave. It was true. In two months this was only the second couple to look at our house. We didn't know how long it would take another interested buyer to come along. And, on the upside, these buyers wanted to close in two weeks. And they were willing to pay cash.
Except for they changed their mind and decided to get a loan. And the loan didn't go through. And then they asked us to rent our house to them. I don't think I'd ever said no faster than when that request came.
It seemed like the deal we had struck with these strangers was changing by the hour. After we stood firm on our decision not to rent to them (we had actual friends and family that we knew and trusted that we'd rather rent to - not strangers whose cash offer turned into a loan offer that didn't go through), the couple was approved for an FHA loan.
I loved our little house, but it was 90 years old. I had heard FHA loan nightmare stories. I didn't think it would go through.
But, Johnie pressed ahead with the sale despite my fears and we made a whirlwind trip to Wichita the weekend of his birthday. We packed up our house without even being sure whether or not it would be sold.
That was an emotional weekend. I was saying goodbye to the house I loved. To the house I had worked up the courage to change and remodel until I had every room just the way I wanted. And I was passing it on to strangers who I couldn't find the motivation to trust. Who didn't seem to appreciate the house nearly as much as I did.
We packed like crazy with the help of Johnie's family until every room was empty. And then, on Sunday evening, we blew up an air mattress in what had been our bedroom for the last several years. And we spent our last night in our house the same as we spent our first -- on a lone mattress in an empty room in an empty house.
We had several offers to stay with friends and family, but I wanted one last night with my house. I had loved it from day one. (That's why the first night was on a mattress surrounded by emptiness while our belongings were still at our apartment.)
As we got ready for bed that night, Johnie surprised me. Weeks earlier I had shared our lackluster proposal story on this blog. It had prompted Johnie to ask for a do-over. I reluctantly agreed and handed over my much-loved engagement ring.
On our last night in our first house, Johnie brought the ring back out and actually had an extremely sweet love monologue prepared. He asked me to start over with him, and I (of course) enthusiastically said yes. It was the sweet proposal I had always hoped for.
The next day we nervously waited for our home inspection. We met the man who would own our home, and it was not the warm-and-fuzzy encounter I had hoped for. He seemed gruff and didn't make consistent eye contact. He was short with both Johnie and me as we tried to tell him about the house, to the point of being rude.
The experience only worsened my uneasiness. And the would-be new owner opted not to share the inspection findings with us in-person, but to work through our realtor. As we were getting ready to leave Wichita, our realtor passed along a list of requests that resulted from the inspection. This was bothersome to us (green at appropriate home-selling etiquette) because he could have discussed those issues with us in person.
More so, because his requests were not tied to the FHA loan approval (other than a small spot of mold discovered in the basement that we were willing to remediate), and we had been very clear that we were not going to pay for any improvements/repairs/upgrades to a house that we were already losing money on.
We refused his requests and left Wichita with the understanding that the buyers were not willing to take our house and that we would likely be renting it out through a property management company we had already talked with.
Back in Kentucky, we learned the saga was not quite over as we received the threat of a lawsuit if we would not agree to the requests of the buyers. Our realtor explained that the buyers likely wouldn't win any lawsuit they filed against us but our house would be in limbo (with us still making mortgage payments) until the case was settled if they chose to sue.
If that happened, it would be cheaper for us just to pay for the repairs. I refused. These buyers (who I personally felt were big meany-bottoms!) had pushed me to my limit. We had been completely open and honest with them from the beginning about not paying for any improvements. Our house had received the FHA loan approval. They were already getting a great house for a great price and we had given them several concessions (including a gaggle of new appliances).
I hoped that we would not go to court over the house and that the couple would just walk away, also realizing litigation wasn't worth their time, but I was willing to face it on principle alone. Not my most shining moment as a christian or a business-person, but I said I didn't care if I had to pay a mortgage payment on an empty house for a year as we navigated the legal system. I felt like these people were taking advantage of us, and I was done letting them.
I will pause to say I am using "I" a lot, but Johnie was in agreement with me. "I" just remember vividly how "I" felt during this time, and don't remember a lot about Johnie during my rants except for his quiet agreement. And thankfully he was the one communicating with our realtor, so he translated and softened my messages quite a bit during that time.
Shortly after the law suit threat that knotted my stomach even more than it already had been, the buyers agreed to cover the improvements they were wanting themselves, and asked only for access to the house to get them finished before closing. I was actually hesitant to give in even to that, but we agreed.
On July 14th, the buyers signed the papers and took official ownership of the house. Johnie and I went out to celebrate, and while the knots started to ease, it was several days before I began to relax. I think I suffered from a bit of post-house selling stress syndrome. My stomach would flip flop for a few weeks after the closing when the phone would ring, as I worried our realtor would inform us of some new demand and some loophole that meant we'd have to pay more money to make these strangers more comfortable in a home we no longer had any claim to. I would hold my breath when I opened my e-mail worried there'd be a message about them deciding they no longer wanted the house and we'd have to take over mortgage payments again.
Thankfully, so thankfully, we never heard from those buyers again after that day, and the story of our first home ended at the July 14th closing.
Sometimes I wonder if - knowing everything I know now - I would have sold the house. Most days I don't even think I would have put it on the market in the first place. Though I miss it and wish it was still mine, I also know that could have brought it's own set of headaches and an entirely different blog post in which I lamented not just unloading the house when we moved.
In the end, I am thankful to have such positive memories of our first home together. I am thankful to have gotten my feet wet in the home-buying and home-selling process. I am thankful that I built up the courage to undertake (and see to completion) remodeling/improvement projects. And, I am looking forward to our next home ownership experience where I hope we won't make some of the same mistakes we made the first time.
