The Journey Begins

Most of the writings you will read initially are taken from my journal that I kept to chronicle our transition from Windermere, Florida to Winston Salem, North Carolina. A day in April, 2007, was my first entry.

I need to confess right off the bat that I did not originally want to live at Brookberry Farm. I thought we would be living on a farm for sure, but the 2-acre lots with houses we had looked at in and around Winston Salem did not seem to be in enough “screaming distance” if I ever needed a neighbor, so that idea was squelched quickly. The search was on.

Our realtor, Peggy Gheesling, a wonderful lady who looks like a more mature Julia Roberts to me, kept taking us out to Brookberry Farm to look at one specific lot over and over. (Randy, and our daughter Leah, had already visited Brookberry in its early phase, and kept saying it was the best place for me.) Lot 94 was on one of the 3 ponds and had more privacy than most of the houses, which was important to me. We had paid 3 visits to Winston Salem with the thought of finding our dream home before leaving each time. I found one existing house on a small lake in a neighborhood farther out, on our first visit, and even though it was not exactly what I was looking for, I was willing to settle because it would do and I loved the property it was on. Two Adirondack chairs sat at the edge of the lake and I could just picture Randy and I sitting there at the close of day watching the fish jump. We were not in the position to buy, and it sold quickly, so I just looked heavenward and said, “Now what? You know that’s the only house I liked, Lord.”

We were on our third visit and our last day when I woke up with such a feeling of despair. I started crying as I told Randy maybe we shouldn’t look here anymore. Maybe God didn’t want us to live in Winston Salem. I was getting a little cranky at Peggy and Randy for continually suggesting we go back to Brookberry Farm. At one point, Peggy told me it was the best place for someone like me…someone who enjoyed being with people and liked to stay active. There was a clubhouse, a barn for large functions, an exercise facility and soon to be pool and summerhouse, along with tennis courts…and about 800 more houses. It just seemed too crowded already, even though the houses were few in number at that point. (In retrospect, I see that Randy and Peggy knew me better than I knew myself. I can label it now...an extreme aversion to anything that smacked of authority...a remnant of my childhood that was driving the bus at that point.)

As life would have it, Peggy had made an appointment with the builder, Jonathan Lee. He already knew the house was going to be in the Fall Parade of Homes, and that it was going to be a Southern Living plan. We walked over to the clubhouse to meet with him, his wife and terrific designer, Alicia, and her mother Betsy, also a very talented designer. We could not believe our eyes as we walked into the conference room. They had laid out every visual they could for every room in the house. There was the wood flooring, the color of the walls for each room, the wood the built-ins would be constructed from, pictures of the appliances, the tile, you name it. They even had fabric swatches of the shower curtain they were going to make for the upstairs bathroom and tablecloth for the table they were going to place in the house for the Parade date. Needless to say, Randy and I left there JUBILANT! (I really want to say, JUBILATED because it just seems to carry more long lasting energy than jubilant. It just kept on going like that little Energizer bunny.) I couldn’t wait to move into the house. I remember going down to the pond looking up and thinking, “Lord, let us live to see this house and enjoy sitting up on the porch and eating our meals and working in the yard.” The time passed quickly.

Let me digress even more and hopefully put this into better perspective about what prompted this quest for a house. We were new empty-nesters and had an opportunity to start a journey on a new path that would lead us away from Florida, our heart of homes. This crossroads that was going to determine our future, came while I was sitting at a well-known Florida resort, having tea with some friends from church. The phone rang and Randy proclaimed, “It’s ours!” meaning we were off on a new business venture. I told everyone the news and one of the lady’s asked, “So, what’s next?” I said without hesitation, “I don’t know. I’m only prayed up to today.” On the way home, I could hardly contain my excitement. I didn’t hesitate to ask God, “What about Leah? Where is she going to live? What about Matthew? Where is he going to go to school? Where is he going to live? What about us? Where are we going to live? Who is going to buy our house and when?” I am so happy to say that He answered every one of those questions in the order they were asked. We found a condo in a gated community close by Leah’s work. Matthew chose to go to school at UCF, 20 minutes away, and he and one of his best friends, David, would be Leah’s roommates. That left us and the sale of our house in FL. We only had two couples that came back more than once while it was on the market, that I recall, and quite a bit of time had lapsed before the last couple made an offer on the house, but it all worked together and we moved into our brand new home at Brookberry Farm on November 1, 2007…just in time for the holidays.