…to sell my house.
Closing is in 23 minutes. Pray that nothing goes wrong. We really want to clear this final hurdle in this process smoothly.
Oh, and whoever found this blog looking for “Freed-Hardeman girls naked” I’m curious if you satisfied your quest. Cause I don’t have that here.
UPDATE: We are no longer home owners. The sale of the house went smoothly and I deposited a hefty check just a little bit ago that will help us retire some existing debt.
The past month, as we have neared the closing date, has been some of the most stressful days for us. This house, that we bought for a song two and a half years ago, has been a wonderful place to live.
But it’s been fraught with problems. Termites, foundation problems, poor air conditioning and mice have plagued us since the beginning.
And then there was the flood. Or should I say floods.
Last Mother’s Day Tracy and I came home from church to find our carpet completely soaked. A freak storm had come into our house destroying the carpet and puncturing the security we felt. We got gutters installed and, although we knew that French Drains would need to be installed we felt some better.
Until two weeks ago, when it happened again in one of the worst storms to hit Waco in years. While Tracy and I were rushing frantically to keep the water from gushing in the house we saw the sale of the house go up in flames. (How’s that for a mixed metaphor?)
Fortunately we were able to salvage the carpet this time replacing only the pad. And the sale went through.
Suffice it to say we are glad to be out from under it.
But today I’ll choose to focus on the positive. For we have experienced many positive and jubilant memories in that house.
Chloe laid down the pacifier in that house. She learned to ride a bike and made her first basket in that driveway. She put on makeup for the first time as she prepared for a dance recital in her bathroom. She got dressed and slipped on her backpack as she headed out for her first day of kindergarten.
Cassidy was potty trained in that house. She learned to sing and find her voice as the center child in that house. She had a million and one wardrobe changes in that playroom. We celebrated her second, third and fourth birthdays in that house. She developed her love of “bottom” jokes and perfected not going to bed in that bedroom.
Shayla was born into that house. It’s the only house she has ever known. It is where she learned to walk and talk. Where she cut her first teeth and got her first boo-boo. Where she first learned that Pop-Tarts were God’s special gift to her. It’s the house where she wrapped herself around our hearts.
Tracy and I fell deeper in love in that house. We saw our family grow by 20% in number but infinitely in joy and happiness. It truly was our home.
So today, the flood I will remember is the torrent of happy memories that I take with me.
And now we begin more memories in a new place.
It’s a blessed day.