If someone had asked me 4 years ago if I would be happy if my house went back to the bank, I would have thought that they were completely insane to even ask. How could someone be happy that a home they worked so hard to make their own was taken away because they couldn't afford to stay there?
We bought the house because of the tremendous amount of potential we saw in it. The 4,200 square foot split level was on a double lot in a quiet neighborhood. We saw through the green indoor/outdoor carpeting, the dated mirrored fireplace and the dreadful baby blue and pink walls and invisioned a home that we could live in for a very long time.
As soon as the papers were signed and the keys handed over we promptly took down the two walls that had boxed in the original 1969 era kitchen. Ryan was working long hours in Real Estate so progress was slow going on weekends only. Within a couple months Ryan's parents returned from a 2 year trip overseas and decided to move into our basement to help us expedite the renovations. While Ryan worked, his dad and I got to work taking down the popcorn ceiling, handing drywall and building "the continent" a massive 11 foot by 6 foot curved island that now stood where the walls used to. His mom helped by preparing meals and keeping our working area tidy.
The kitchen took 10 months to complete and in all honesty was not completely done when we departed in November of 2009. Over the years the multitude of projects continued to grow and none were ever fully completed. For those of you who have seen 1986's The Money Pit you get the picture. It seemed like new "improvements" were constantly popping up over the 5 years we lived there. We never did ever get a chance to sleep in the master bedroom in all that time.
We had grand dreams of enlarging the masterbed room, gabling the hipped roof to something less split level etc., etc. But we were always working to afford the mortgage, the cars and buy the tools needed to get the job done. We were completely exhausted. As a result the lawn often went unmowed, the weeds grew uncontrollably and my resentment for this monster house continued to grow. Still when financial trouble started brewing in early 2008 giving up the house was not an option. We had too much time and money into it to leave it all behind. I remember one day after struggling to make the mortgage payments for another month I broke down in tears, terrified that we were going to loose our house. It was unfathomable. The stress of it caused me to contract Shingles and sent me in to a deep depression. When they say that loosing your house is like coping with a loved ones death, they are not joking. Even though Ryan had been in the business of REO properties (homes that have been foreclosed on) for years it was no less devastating. No one was more surprised than myself when I woke up one Fall morning and decided to hold up the white flag. There was absolutely no possible way to keep the house, especially not while trying to start a new business at the same time. The $3,500/month payments were out of control. The only responsible thing to do was to pack up, move out and ask the bank to take the house back as a Deed in Lieu.
As we quickly found out the bank was too consumed with other defaulted homes and had no urgency to get our debt off the books. A multitude of phone calls trying to get the issue resolved fell on deaf ears. We maintained the house payment for almost a full year after moving funded by money we barrowed from family. At one point I called into the mortgage company to try and arrange a resolution and was told that until my account was in default they were unable to help me. That's when we decided to give up all together. Now 2 years later they have finally taken the house to the county steps for auction, at least that is what the latest notice we recieved said.
I'm not proud to have been foreclosed on. In my family foreclosure was always viewed as the worst thing that someone could ever do. You take the responsiblity and live with the consequences. I carried a sense of guilt about my decision for years after we left. I feared Ryan blammed me for forcing him to leave the house, that he would forever be resentful of that. But now as time has passed I am relieved that I made that hard decision and thankful that we have a warm place to sleep at night. I know someday we will have the big house again although I'm working on conviencing Ryan that we only need 2,100!
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