My husband and I bought our first home at a time when the market was flooded with cheap houses and you could get a mortgage simply by having a pulse. We bought a reasonable house 40 miles from where we grew up because we liked the scenery and the houses were cheaper there. A few years later, the four hour daily commute wore on my husband and my two hour commute wasn't winning favor with our then toddler. We had all had enough of country living and we were ready to sell. Unfortunately, this was in 2009 when the market and the economy had completely tanked. We were trapped.
Week after week of showings went by but we didn't get any real offers. There were so many houses for a family to look at and ours was just another one to pass through. Discouraged, we lowered our price. Regardless, traffic was dying down because we'd been on the market too long. We had one offer, but it was too low.
My mother lived her final 8 years and 2 months in a nursing home. That last year was spent in and out of the hospital with disorienting infections and several bouts of sepsis. The last time I spoke to my mother, the day before she lost consciousness permanently, I knew I'd never speak to her again. With each passing day, her body shut down organ by organ.
I kept in touch with my realtors mostly to let them know we couldn't show the house. They let me know the low-ballers were still interested and raised their offer slightly.
My mother passed away on April 22, 2010. Thanks to my grandfather, we were able to accept the offer on our house that was now $1 less than the price we paid for it.
That day, on multiple levels, changed everything.
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