Brogan

My family is moving.

Well, we were.

Moving was something my family teetered with almost two years ago, it didn't work out, so we took our house off the market. I didn't want to move then, and I thought I didn't want to move this time as well. I spent many days and trips with my family going to see houses and picking out the bad things about all the houses we saw. There wasn't one single house that I wanted to move into. It's not that the houses weren't nice, some of them really were, there was just something that was holding me back.

Fear.

I was scared of moving, and I was scared of having to go somewhere new, and somewhere different. I've lived in three houses my entire life, and I thought when we moved into the house we live in now that this would be it; that this house would be the house I take my grand kids to when they wanted to visit their grandfather and crazy Grandma Sue. Even though I hated this house when we first moved from South Philly, after some recent alterations, and a really nice extension of my "room" I began to really fall for it, and even looked forward to coming home some weekends last year when things were a bit rough at school. That all changed last Friday.

See, we went to go see a house behind a local church, before I even got there, I was putting down the neighborhood it was in, and trying to plant the seed of doubt in my parents' mind. We get there, and its actually a really nice house, four bedrooms, well almost five, two and a half baths, full finished basement, and the most spectacular backyard I've seen behind a house in real life. It was way below our budget, and it had everything we were looking for in a house. It was perfect!

We all begged and pleaded with our parents to put in a bid to buy the house, and I think they loved the house as much as we did. This is where this dream story comes to a crashing and confusing halt.

Long story short, our house isn't sold, and although we could probably just pay full price for the house, we still had to sell ours. As great as owning a home is, it comes with a fuck-ton of bills, and one of those being a mortgage. If we bought this nice house, and didn't sell ours right away, we would have to carry two mortgages. Again, long story short, my parents are afraid, although they can afford it, they afraid it might cripple us if our house doesn't sell, and the double mortgage goes on too long.

Fear.

I'm not going to go in depth on what must be going through my parents' minds. For two reasons, one it's none of your, or even mine for that matter, business. Second, It's their money, and although I am deeply disappointed that we aren't buying that home (even though I'll probably be out on my own in a year anyway) I understand their decision, although I don't agree with it. My parents deserve that house. Not that our house is shabby, it isn't, it's a great home, amazing kitchen, and we live comfortably here. That being said, my parents have earned the right to live beyond comfort, to be able to truly stretch their legs.

My Dad doesn't have a college degree, yet we go on over a months worth a vacation every year, I went to a 35 thousand dollar a year private university, and we live in a expensive town. My mother busted her ass in night school to get a degree in, like, six years at the age of forty, and works everyday. They doesn't just provide for our family, they flat out fucking spoil us. I know they must have a million things going through their head everyday, and god knows my brothers and I don't make it any easier on them.

The only way to truly thank them is to be at least half as good to my kids as they were and are to me. The reason I say this is because I want you to understand where I come from when I say that my parents are being scared dogs when it comes to this house ordeal.

Fear.

I want this house, they want this house, but they are too scared to take a risk. Case closed, end of story. Fear wins again, and again we all lose.

I really don't know when fear took over all of us. When we let it creep right into our fucking lives, sit in our favorite recliner, and drink the coldest beer from the back of the fridge. I'd blame George Bush and how he manipulated that bastard fear for his own personal gain. I'd blame Osama Bin Laden and every fucking "terrorist" that gets angry when he sees the red, white, and blue and is jealous of the freedom those colors represent. I'd blame the whores and the assholes who spread STDs with dirty needles and careless sex, or I'd blame the drug dealer who helps kids greet death everyday just so he can ride around in a pimped out caddy or sleek black Mercedes. I'd blame Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton, and John McCain, and every other cock-sucking politician who makes us fear the future if we don't vote for them, so they can make our decisions for us. I'd blame all those stupid fucking signs and brand new security measures at the airport that scare the shit out of all the families before they board their flight to "sunny Florida!" I'd blame the finger-fucking Priests and all the clergy men of all religions for scaring it's patrons into believing God will make us pay. I'd blame all the atheists for pissing off God and believing something that wasn't Divine could possibly make everything around us. I'd blame all the models and workout shows for making some of my best friends hate themselves when they look in the mirror, and make people so scared to go to the beach, or go to a pool party, that they'd rather sit at home and do nothing for fear of being judged.

I'd blame everyone else, if I could. But I can't, because I know who is really to blame for letting fear take over ourselves. We are, and I would tell you how to change it, and I would tell you how to fix it, and how to regain our footing in this fucked up world. But I don't know how to.

Actually I think I do know how to fix it all, I'm just afraid I might be wrong.


Fear.


Author's note: So, the people that were selling the house that I wanted to move into said last night that anyone who wanted to put a bid in for their house had to do so by 10 am today, and they would make their decision by noon (apparently other people wanted that house as well) My parents went to bed last night deciding to not put in a bid, and to take our house off the market. I just got a call from my Dad telling me that they put in a bid for the house, and that they accepted it, thus making us the new owners of the house! Apparently something made them change their minds this morning, and take the risk. I sure am glad they did ;)