I have a contract on Dad's house. We went with a company that will buy for cash immediately, as is. I met with them yesterday at Dad's place. They offered far less than I'd hoped for, but we were finally able to find a common ground in the offer. The closing will be January 30.
It was strange, knowing that this would be the last time I would be at Dad's. Part of me wanted to take everything with me, to not let anything that he owned go elsewhere. But when I thought about it, I knew that it didn't make sense. We took a few things from the house - some plates, small appliances, a picture of me, the heavy candy bowl. There's more that I probably would have taken but so I couldn't let myself do that. I'm definitely my dad's kid, in that I'm more than a bit of a pack rat. I've already got too much taking up space here. I don't need more. That's what I'm telling myself anyway.
Today, I'm wondering if I'd made the right choice with selling. But I also know that a part of me is just dealing with nostalgia and fear. In the grand scheme of things, this is the right choice for me. I don't need to keep things. I've got my memories of Dad over the years. That's what's more important. And a few things that I did bring home.
I'm not sure why, but I also took a set of keys that were Dad's. I don't think any of them are to anything current. But somehow, having these makes me feel a bit better. I'm odd, yes.
So I'm saying good-bye and getting one of the items off of my list. Which is what I need to be doing.
![]() |
One of the last pictures I have of Dad Outside of his house |
Comments
Post a Comment