The bittersweet Home

I almost always know what I’m going to walk into when I receive a call to help prepare a home for the market.

 

But nothing could have prepared me for a call I received several years ago.

 

A lifelong friend of mine had lost his wife suddenly to a stroke in the middle of the night. She was only 39 years old. I had just seen them days before. They were one of the happiest families I have ever known.

 

Fast forward two years, and he was finally ready to sell their home.

 

I had sold them that house just months before they were married. Before they brought two babies home. They built their life there. I knew this would be one of the hardest listing appointments I’d ever walk into. I also knew my friend needed me.

 

He couldn’t finish walking me through the house, so I continued on my own. I tried to keep my breathing quiet as I moved from room to room, but I couldn’t stop the tears. Everything was exactly as she had left it. Not a single photo had been taken down.

 

She was so beautiful—inside and out. She wasn’t just a wonderful mother, wife, and friend. She was remarkable simply as herself. How lucky we all were to have known her.

 

The house was still full of love. Christmas decorations remained. Children’s photos and drawings covered the walls and refrigerator. Tiny handprint art hung beside the bed.

 

And yet, there was a fog in every room.

 

A low-lying cloud of sadness lingered in each space—a quiet loneliness, a presence that was missing. A void you could feel.

 

This shows up a lot of ways. For so many of us, it shows up as things out of place.

 

To someone else, it might have looked like clutter or dust. Some might have called it neglect or laziness.

 

But I knew what it was.

 

It was grief.

 

It was someone trying desperately to live again—not just survive minute by minute—while navigating a life they never imagined they’d have to live. You could see the effort. You could feel the love. And you could feel the loss. You could feel the hope. You could feel the promise of what’s next. 

 

I am so grateful I was trusted to help with that transition. Grateful that my friend wasn’t ashamed of how things looked, because he knew me well enough to know I would understand—and that I would have a solution. That I would be there.

 

So many people feel overwhelmed, believing their home has to be perfect before we walk through the door. They don’t realize that we’ve lived it too.

 

I’ve been through the painful divorce in my early twenties. I’ve known the depression that quietly shows up in your home. I’ve walked through the grief of losing grandparents and not knowing what to do with everything left behind. I’ve lived through raising a child with special medical needs, long nights and weeks in hospitals. Too exhausted mentally and physically to organize a thing. I’ve stood in homes that haven’t been repaired or maintained in twenty years or more. Life can feel so heavy at times for anyone.

 

Every home tells a story.

 

And sometimes people are afraid to let others in to help because they feel so embarrassed or ashamed. 

Life happens to all of us. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. 

 

If you’re feeling stuck, reach out to someone. You’ll be so glad that you did. 

 

If you need help, I'm here for you. I have resources. 

 

I'm Jessica Sauls, and I help Buyers and Sellers navigate their Real Estate needs in Carroll County, Maryland and surrounding areas. 

It's my Mission to provide strategic, ethical, and compassionate real estate guidance that empowers people to build stability, wealth, and a life they love. We create calm, clear, and trustworthy experiences, and we strengthen our community through service, connection, and integrity.

I believe in building futures, relationships, and legacies that last.

 

How to Connect with us:

www.memorylanepropertygroup.rocks

www.MyRealtorJess.rocks

Jess@MyRealtorJess.rocks

443-983-0402/410-231-3344

 

Westminster Maryland, Carroll County Real Estate, Maryland Real Estate