Almost 25 years ago, I moved to Layton. I came here kicking and screaming; swearing that I would return to my heartland of Salt Lake City within three years. I couldn’t imagine living in a place where everything I needed wasn’t within walking distance. I was used to a downtown heartbeat, living wall to wall in the center of everything, where the sound of revving engines and honking horns woke me up in the morning and the smell of exhaust fueled my energy throughout the day.

My husband at the time (the first one) had a dream of building a home. Since there was little land available in downtown Salt Lake, and what was available wasn’t close to what we could afford, we headed north, with the promise that it would be short term. Four houses and two husbands later (I’m not bragging), I’m still here, and I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.

At the time of our move, I had a 5-year-old daughter and a newborn. Soon after moving, I sauntered into a public restroom with my baby to change a diaper. As was characteristic for me, I had not brought a diaper. Thus, sporting my “Mother of the Year” hat, I asked a lady who was in the bathroom changing her baby’s diaper if she had an extra one. She seemed to think this was incredibly humorous and she reached in her diaper bag (so that’s what those overstuffed bags are that people with babies haul around) and handed one to me. It was big, but it did the trick.

As it turned out, these babies were close to the same age, and since she had a baby nearly every year for eight years, she had a 5-year-old daughter as well. Also, coincidently, she lived on the same block where we just purchased a home. Over the next nine years, our girls became best friends, and we did as well. When we moved (less than 2 miles away) we maintained our friendship. When I moved again, we continued to be friends, although both of our lives became so busy that we rarely had time for hikes or Scrabble games or bike rides anymore. Our girls remained best friends.

All our children grew into adults, which happens with time. I have moved four times since then, and my friend has stayed in the same home. A few weeks ago, my friend called me. “We are interested in looking at the home for sale across the street from you. We are thinking it is time to move.”

As expected, the home across the street from my home, which had just been listed, was also under contract. I delivered the sad news and we both lamented on how much fun it would be to live across the street from one another again. A week goes by, and another. And then one day, as I am doing my daily check of new listings, I see the home across the street pop up as active again. I call my friend and we schedule to go through it that afternoon. The previous buyers got cold feet two weeks into the process (either that or they found out who their neighbors were going to be and decided to bail while they still had a chance) and backed out. My friend and her husband loved the home. They wanted to make an offer.

The odds were not forever in our favor. They had a home to sell, so the offer would be contingent, and their current home was not exactly “sell ready.” We decided to give it a go anyway.

As we were awaiting a response on our contingent offer (nearly impossible to get accepted in this seller’s market), I took my blue tape and went through their home marking all the repairs that needed to be done and all the furniture that needed to be moved into storage. It was daunting. I get that this was difficult for them since they raised their eight children among the furnishings of this much-loved home.

Less than 12 hours after making the offer, and against all odds, it was accepted! We had one week to get their home ready and on the market. Today we will get pictures and tomorrow it will go live on the MLS. They did every single thing they were asked to do to get their home ready. It will sell and they will move, and we will go back to riding bikes, going for hikes and playing Scrabble. Where you land is too big a deal to be taken lightly. I heard a mantra in yoga class one day that applies: “You are exactly where you are supposed to be,” even if it is smack dab in the middle of a move.

Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or jen@jen-fischer.com.

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