Today is a bit of an emotional day for me. Today is the day that new tenants move into my Ottawa condo. Don't get me wrong; I'm very happy that this day has come, or at least my bank account is very happy. On the other hand, the condo was a huge step for me and the place where my life took place for several years, so it's strange to think of other people living there.
How I ended up in the suburbs is really a story of God working in my life. I had been renting the same apartment for over two years, sharing it first with one friend, then another. When my second roommate told me she was leaving, I started to wonder what to do next: Should I move to a smaller place on my own, or seek out another roommate, one who might also have to take off and leave me with a room to fill? My best friend was buying a condo in a new development, and suggested I check it out. The idea slowly came to me: I could be a home owner. Me. I could do this.
My biggest reservation was fear. What if I couldn't handle this big step? Did this mean I was a real grown-up? (Apparently three years of gainful employment and having my own car didn't count...) Did owning my own house make me one of those independent women that would scare away single men? Despite my misgivings, I made the choice (okay, my parents helped a little), and ponied up more money than I had ever spent at one time.
|The condo in the midst of packing to move out. Note how nicely organized I am with my tax documents. :-)|
And then I waited. It was seven long months until my home was finally finished. In that time, God provided through some belt-tightening times. I found a temporary sub-letter who ended up being a 60-something vegan hippie. (Very nice, but extremely odd.) Finally, the day had came and I took possession. I brought a couple of boxes in, did a prayer walk around the rooms, and played guitar in my living room for a while, just so the place would feel like it was mine. A couple of days later, half a dozen of my dearest friends came to help move (and two of them even baked cupcakes and unpacked my dishes while I went back for the second van-load).
|My Spadina sign (available from Walloper.com)|
My condo became home. I hung up my grandma's oil paintings and this awesome wall decal that reminded me of the Toronto subway. (Yes, such a nerd.) The cats found their favourite places to sleep. In my condo, I hosted my first (and only) dinner party. In my condo, Gil and I spent many hours watching movies and talking while we were dating. In my condo, I bawled and mourned when my beloved kitty Scout died. In my condo, I planned our wedding and put personalized stickers on hundreds of Hershey's kisses. And now some other couple will be starting their life out in my condo.