Five and a half years ago, I was a single 27 year old and I bought a one bedroom, one bath condo. I loved living there. I had so much fun- I was blocks from Piedmont Park, the best restaurants in the city, every parade/festival/marathon in the city literally went past my front door, and I had friends in my condo building and several of the surrounding ones.
I adopted my beloved Bradley living there.
He had his own little throne on my living room chair:
And he and Hedgie the (stuffed) Hedgehog supervised the comings and goings in the complex:
That’s where I was living when I met the husband, and Bradley approved of him:
But then I got married, and moved into the husband’s house. Bradley got a new brother, and a deck instead of a balcony:
Then we had a baby and Bradley got ANOTHER new brother:
And we ran out of space. We need a bigger home and part of that plan means we needed to sell the condo so we could free up the cash we had in it. Yesterday was the closing and it was a bittersweet experience. On the one hand, so many wonderful things have happened to me in the last 5 years and the only reason I would still need the condo is if they hadn’t happened. It’s because of my wonderful husband and sweet baby boy that I am selling it in the first place. But the condo was also my house, that I bought and made into a home. And selling it is an acknowledgement that that part of my life is really over.
Goodbye little condo. You were a good home to me!