Monday, September 1, 2008


After having our house on the market for just about 3 weeks, we received an offer. It seemed low at first, but after a bit of negotiation, we were able to agree on a price beneficial to both of us, which included a closing date less than one month away. I allowed myself to avoid packing and preparing because with 28 days to go, there were a lot of things that could potentially go wrong. But soon with only 2 weeks left and the inspections and appraisals out of the way, the only thing left was to get our stuff out and hope they show up to sign the paper work. We searched for rental houses and apartments. We interviewed moving companies and terminated our utilities and services. Things fell into place: a second floor 3 bedroom apartment, apparently the only 3 bedroom available within a 15 mile radius, a moving company who takes pride in not damaging your stuff. With a little over a week until closing, we began to pack. Doug’s mom came over to wrap and box and within an afternoon, the house looked somewhat barren. We continued boxing and packing and color coding each box for storage or apartment. Soon enough, we found ourselves in heap of our stuff in what would soon be someone else’s home. The day came, Friday, August 29th, when we appeared at the title company to sign our house over to someone else. We had negotiated to lease back from them for a few days so we could move out after closing, so we were able to return there for one final night’s sleep. The movers arrived Saturday morning and within a few hours, our house was empty, the apartment was shoulder deep in boxes and 2 storage units held the rest of our belongings. We spent Sunday evening cleaning the house for the last time and soaking in the last of the memories there. We pulled away from the driveway exhausted and sad, but also anticipating our new house. More than anything else though, we were worried about William. (See the next post.)

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