This April will mark eight years since I stepped into the world of real estate sales. Eight years -- who would have thought? That is a record for me; I've never been at any other job that long. But then again, this is the first time "going to work" hasn't felt like "going to work."
I've certainly met a number of memorable folks during my career as a writer, which is the world I was in prior to real estate. But for whatever reason, it hasn't been until now that I feel a special and unique connection with the people I meet in this job I have now.
Several days ago, I received a call from a buyer I had been working with for a while. She called to let me know she has decided to move out of state, closer to family, and would therefore not be purchasing a home here. Through our conversation, she disclosed some challenging times she'd been facing and the difficult decisions she has had to make. Although she had obviously been struggling, she seemed to now have a good grasp on what she needed to do. As I told her, she is wise beyond her years. She thanked me for the time I spent with her looking for a house and apologized that a sale was not to be.
As a writer, I don't ever recall having my time and efforts acknowledged to the degree they are as a real estate agent. While there are, of course, exceptions, I continue to be humbled by the kind and sincere words of thanks and appreciation my buyers and sellers express throughout the transaction. The amount of time spent with each gives that opportunity to move a bit beyond the "business" relationship and get to know them on a more personal level.
I find that most share a sense of humor about life, all have had hardships they've endured, and all ultimately want the same thing in life -- to be happy, to simply be happy.
I never thought selling homes would result in some great friendships with the buyers and sellers I'd meet along the way. But how lucky am I that things turn out that way.
