Life After Foreclosure - A Firsthand Account

When we took out the loan on our home to purchase another three years ago, it was with all the best intentions. We both had good jobs, we had money in the bank, a promotion guaranteed with all the perks within the next year (as soon as I got my bachelor's degree) and ample equity. If we were careful with our money, we could easily afford to make both payments, especially since we were moving my parents into the older house for a minimal rent that was just enough to bridge the gap for us between "financially untenable" and "reasonably comfortable". It was good for everyone. They got a nice home to live inexpensively guaranteed for as long as they lived, we got a nice home closer to really good schools for the kids, and the investments we were making for our children's futures would help all of them to get through college and make that difficult transition into adulthood more easily. "Wonderful," we thought, "Everybody wins!"

It was a lovely idea. What a shame the reality so completely failed to live up to it.

Five months after moving into our shiny new house, my health began to fail. With my health went my good job, all the money we had in bank, my ability to finish school as planned, thus that lovely promotion we'd counted on. I went on Disability, but that didn't come close to what I was making before, and the debt was growing faster than our ability to pay it. We drew heavily upon the equity in our new home to help pay rapidly mounting medical bills. Then things got even worse. In his efforts to take care of me and our children, to see to my medical needs and those of our children as my condition took its emotional toll on them, my husband lost his job as well.

You can guess what came next, right?

As my health collapsed, so did the health of the housing market. We fell behind in payments on first one house then the other as we struggled to stay afloat. We lost the new house first. We weighed our options, and then contacted the loan company for the old house to see if there was any way to work things out with them. In the end, we filed bankruptcy to reorganize the debt on the other in an effort to keep it, though we were admittedly upside down in debt on that one, too. Loan companies are notoriously unsympathetic to home owners though, especially now. To us these are homes. To them, they are investments. They weren't going to budge, meaning there was no way we could catch up those payments and still manage to support ourselves. What else could we do, though? Promises had been made and had to be kept. So, we did the only thing we could do and still hope to survive.

We all moved in with Mom. Both my parents, actually, God love them. They opened the doors and let the six of us invade, and my nephew as well.

Now, no woman wants to live with her mother, no matter how dearly she loves her, and I'm no exception. I'd long since come around to the idea that I was the woman of the house and it was "my way or the highway". Smart woman, my mom. I got that idea from her. The first week or two was a nightmare of trading barbs, walking on egg shells, and crying. A lot of crying. The hardest part was reminding everyone that though we owned the house, this wasn't really our place anymore. This was our house, yes, but it was their home. Once we were back on our feet and out on our own, they would continue to live here as promised. We were guests, here by their grace.

This was not our home.

So now there are nine people living in a two bedroom house. Well, two bedrooms, an RV, a fifth wheel, and a converted shed in the back yard. My parents reside in the master suite (also known as the converted garage), while my oldest daughter is crammed somewhat sardine-like in with the two littlest ones in the house in the other small bedroom. My nephew is grossly polluting the converted shed to the point that none dare enter without a gas mask, as my oldest son obsesses over every speck of dust in the archaic fifth wheel. Meanwhile, my husband and I are scraping together every penny we make between us from disability to odd jobs to whatever I can write to pay exorbitant sums every month to live in an ancient RV with a leaky roof.

Yup. Real cozy. The All - American dream.

So, for those of you looking to dive in on a great deal, that house you just can't pass up, remember this lovely tale. No matter how secure you are, you're not secure enough. Not in this market, unless of course, you're Paris Hilton, in which case...um...can I have a loan?