Rent the Moment, Own the Lifetime

There have been several articles recently about whether it’s currently better to buy or rent. They all note that for most buyers, in the current rate environment, it is better to rent than buy. All are reasonably good and informative articles, but their end recommendation is typically based only on a dollar-for-dollar savings.

Monthly or annual savings is only one piece of the puzzle and doesn’t account for the emotional stability you get from owning.

Just over two years ago I rented an apartment for the first time in 25yrs. I was selling my house and moving out of state. Overall, renting was a great experience, and I was both surprised and happy I had that reaction. The apartment was spacious (a townhouse), in a great area right near where my house had been, the complex was nice, and the neighbors relatively peaceful and polite.

Yes, my rent was lower than my previous house payment (including escrows), but not by much. It was great not to worry about maintenance and yardwork for the first time in 25yrs. Brewery Saturdays became a thing, a tradition that has continued.

When something went wrong, I had someone I could call and then they were on the clock, not me. It was no longer my to-do list, but their “it needs to get done now” list. It was great.?

I made a few small updates like installing lighted ceiling fans in each bedroom as there wasn’t any overhead lighting and Midwest summers get hot. I replaced all the lightbulbs with LEDs of the same “color”. I changed the shower heads in both bathrooms and installed a new kitchen faucet: You know, simple things. Afterall, this was to be my home for a year, a place for my son and me, a reflection of who I was when I had friends over. One day when my daughter was visiting and I detailed all my triumphant updates to the place, she said, “Jeez Dad, are you going to replace the flooring next??”. (She’s from strong sarcastic stock—on her father’s side.) I jokingly said, maybe, but I am only here for a year so probably not worth the cost.

That’s when it hit me. It wasn’t that the apartment was bad in its original form, intolerable, unlivable, or just outright wrong. Heck, I chose to live there and paid a decent amount of money for the right to do so.

Through my updates and enhancements, I was desperate to make it feel like my home—a place that had my look, feel, personality, that felt like it was mine, no matter how many months I stayed. I was searching for a meaningful, emotional connection, something that comes naturally with owning a home, but needs to be heavily manufactured when renting.

And yes, I was saving a little money each month with rent, but each time that payment was withdrawn all I could think about was how much I was wasting because I wasn’t buying anything. I lost a ton of equity in that year because I didn’t own my home.

Thankfully for me, I knew this was a short-term transition, a placeholder until I was ready to move again. I purchased my home over a year ago and love it. Florida grass is vicious, I’m fairly certain it will eat me if given the chance—so we changed the landscaping, fixed the garage door opener, and have dealt with little things that sometimes make me late for Brewery Saturday.

Yet every time I walk in from being gone, or wake up in the morning, no matter what the day, or ownership has pelted me with, I always smile inside because it’s mine, it’s my home, my carnivorous grass, my refuge for as long as I want it, and you can’t get that from any lease. Until next time.