Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Our responses ran the gamut from “we were bored” to “it seemed like a good invest-
ment,” depending on our mood.
Unfortunately, in the end, this barrage of questions made us wonder about our actual
motives.
Hmm.
Let's do the positives first.
There comes a point in your life when all the big issues seem resolved (yes, I realize
this may be an illusion, but humor me here) and the vast store of energy you devoted to
resolving them needs a new focus.
A second home, though hardly the most commendable preoccupation of middle age, is
a surprisingly invigorating one.
I won't go so far as to say we were in a slump when we bought the house but we were
definitely at loose ends. Our careers were stable. We had invested early and well in the D.C.
real estate market. Our relationship, as far as we both could tell, was in fine fettle.
Maybe our streak of good luck had made us a tiny bit complacent.
The house in Vieques brought some leavening to the mix. It kept us busy and engaged
and gave us something to think about every day. It presented us with an almost infinite
number of challenges which, while taxing in the short term, could fairly easily be over-
come. It made us talk to each other more than we had in years.
Let's not forget the fact that the house also represented the realization of a dream. Al-
though we'd never really discussed the possibility of living in a tropical setting in our
declining years, once the opportunity of buying a house in Vieques presented itself, we
learned that we'd been creating independent fantasies of tropical retirement for years.
Not that there weren't moments when we questioned our sanity.
It's certainly no exaggeration to say that we pushed far beyond our financial comfort
zone to buy and renovate the house. Michael, who tends to be the more responsible partner
in such matters, worried a lot in those early days. Particularly when construction delays
pushed the date for putting the property on the rental market further and further into the
future.
A few months after we bought the house, Michael, clutching yet another completely
unanticipated bill, said, “It's like having a child.”
I smiled happily.
“Except that our house will never poop on us or say 'I hate you.'”
“Or go to college,” he added, reluctantly returning my smile.
I worried, too, though the whole undertaking felt so right I never seriously entertained
the notion that it wouldn't work out in the end. In fact, despite the vast resources of time
and money we put into the project in those first years, it felt like a down-payment on our
old age.
Search WWH ::




Custom Search