Closed Doors

I'm about a week overdue on celebrating my 2-year anniversary here in England. That's a little (okay, a lot) scary to write, because it seems like just yesterday I was celebrating my 1-year anniversary and being thankful that I still had 2 years to go, because I didn't want to start thinking about the "lasts" I would have in my final year. And now here it is. July 29, 2009, I arrived... and in July 2012, I will leave. So this is my last August in England. Instead of being sad about this, I want to embrace every moment and make all of the "lasts" as sweet as I can.

I'll be honest, the last month has been a pretty emotional one for me... some good, but for the most part it has been challenging. Doors closing, failures, frustrations, and things that have made me question whether I have what it takes. For various reasons, I won't go into detail on most of those things for now, but I'll talk about one that had a big impact, because I think I've turned a corner and learned from it.

This will be a short story about a door that wasn't just closed, but slammed in my face. I mentioned about a month ago that I was asked to move out of my house by October so that my landlords could sell it. Though it wasn't what I wanted, I agreed because I believed it was the right thing to do given the circumstances. So I began house-hunting, and after about a week, I stumbled upon an unbelievably perfect house.

It was a completely restored 17th-century thatched-roof cottage, and it was the most beautiful place I have ever seen. I was in love from the moment I walked through the rose-covered archway at the gate. It was immaculate inside and out, including a modern kitchen with dishwasher, beautifully landscaped gardens bursting with flowers, and not one but TWO garages. I'm not going to post a picture, because I'm not a masochist (it still hurts to click past it on the property search websites), but if you have ever tried to imagine the perfect English cottage, just know that's what it was like.

I put in an application the day after I visited it. Though I tried not to get my hopes up, it was just so incredible that I couldn't resist telling my close friends and co-workers. A week later, on a Friday, the rental agency called to tell me that my application was approved, and asked when I wanted to move in. I may or may not have squealed in the ear of the agent and did a happy dance in the parking lot of the Lakenheath gym. I spent the weekend on cloud nine, picturing how I would arrange all of my furniture, and dreaming about making memories with friends in my beautiful new home.

Paperwork began on Monday, but it wasn't until Wednesday that disaster struck. I got a phone call at work from the property manager (who I had never met, and was not part of the rental agency). He asked if I was US military, and when I said that I was, he told me that he had had a bad experience with a US military tenant a few years ago, who had left unpaid rent and utility bills, and thus he had decided never to rent to a US military person again. He said in a short, business-like tone that he was sorry, but he would refund my application fee and move on.

My mind raced between disbelief and panic, searching for something to say. I apologized for the disrespect and irresponsibility of the past tenant. I explained all of the policies in place to ensure we fulfill our requirements to British landlords. I told him about my decision to move as a favor to my current landlords. I offered additional professional and personal references on myself. And I told him how I felt about the cottage and how much it meant to me. I laid out everything I had... and he still said no.

I felt like a dream had been ripped away from me and shattered. I cried for about two days straight. I realize that at this point, most (maybe all) of you are thinking "it's just a house, get over it." And I get that. I'm just being honest. It was as if something that was mine (or that I had believed to be mine from Friday-Wednesday) had been taken from me, something that I had visualized as part of my life. And the reason was something completely out of my control. In 26 years, I have never felt discriminated against until that day. I realize now how blessed I have been, to not have experienced the sense of helplessness and despair when you are denied something based not on who you are, but a stereotype you are associated with.

Though it still hurts to think about losing the cottage, some good news in another area came through the next week that helped me put everything in perspective. Martin had applied for an extension on his assignment here so that his move date (March) would match mine (July) and in turn we would be in the same assignment cycle and could get married in time to ask the Air Force to assign us together. While it initially didn't look promising, prayers were answered and AFPC came through with an approval! I can't even begin to explain the joy and relief that came with this news. It still does not guarantee a joint assignment, but our odds just skyrocketed.

Still no wedding date set, but we are moving into checking time frames with family, so that makes me really excited!!! I told Martin that this news almost prompted me to pick a house at random from the property search site and move, because it mattered so little in comparison to the joy of a future with him. :-D (I didn't pick the random house, though... still have time to look!)

Good List:
1. Martin. I can't wait to marry him!!! :-) Sometimes it amazes me how he knows exactly what I am thinking before I even figure it out myself.
2. Cool evenings with windows open and breezes blowing though the house.
3. Talk of football season beginning! I am playing fantasy football with Martin's squadron this year, and of course I can't wait to see my Penn State Nittany Lions in action.
4. Odwalla strawberry banana smoothies.
5. Lisa. My amazing little sister is driving across the country this week to begin her new job in urban ministry in LA. So proud! :-) Follow her blog at http://lisakeller9.wordpress.com/
6. Good friends and making new good friends. :-)
7. Second SOS test complete! Only one to go...
8. The commissary sandwich bar.
9. A gas safety inspector who actually arrived in the first 10 minutes of the 3-hour window I was given to wait.
10. Seeing a rainbow out my hallway window on my first look outside one morning. :-)