Flying First Class Was a Matter of Survival
I splurged on luxury, but only once
May 2010
My husband and I were sitting on the still damp floor of our empty house with our real estate agent, signing the paperwork on an offer that had just come through.
“Sorry we don’t have any chairs; the movers came and got them this morning!” I smiled at our agent, who was uncomfortably shifting her crisscross position on the newly shampooed carpet.
“No worries! I’m just glad we have a buyer for your house before you move!” I could tell she was as relieved as I was.
“Yes — me, too! Now we just have to figure out how we’re actually getting there!” I laughed but was somewhat serious.
We had come to terms with the fact that we would most likely be selling our home from across the country, new employment required we moved by a certain date. But thankfully an acceptable offer had come the exact afternoon all our furniture had been picked up by the movers and our house was empty.
It was an immense relief. However, we still hadn’t finalized how we were all going to travel across the country from Oregon to Ohio. My mother-in-law was living with us and at eighty-one, she had some serious health limitations, including mobility and vision issues.
