Three years ago, I turned a key

Three years ago today, I unlocked the front door of my house as owner. It was sixteen weeks to the very day after Nigel died, and I’d never have been able to do it without the help and support of family and friends.

In particular, I need to single out my brother-in-law, Nigel’s younger brother, who drove to Auckland more than once to attend meetings with me, went with me to the realtors’ office the day I signed the contract to purchase, and again to pick up the keys. He also was basically project manager for me, overseeing work I had done on the house before I moved in (I was still living in Auckland at the time). Cliché, I know, but I’ll be forever grateful.

I moved into this house 12 days after I took possession, and it’s fair to say life was a massive roller coaster after that—especially because of the plague, but also my own journey was, and is, its own roller coaster.

Good, bad, and indifferent, this particular story arc in my life began three years ago today, the first giant step forward in my journey to find whatever I was to become. That journey continues.

Thank you to everyone who’s been sharing this with me.

The photo above is from my 2020 post about this, “Rehoming myself”. I published it a couple days after I got the keys, so it has some more of the story than I shared on my Facebook at the time.