Closing

As I write this, the closing of the sale of my father's house is taking place. Our attorney is representing us, so we needn't be there. We've had tremendous support from our attorney, the real estate agent, Mike and his crew, neighbors, and friends.

So, the house where I grew up (to the extent that I grew up) is now owned by another family. A number of years ago, I was talking with some people at work and learned that I was the only one of the group who'd spent all 12 years of elementary and high school in the same school system. There were very few changes in the neighborhood. Don's family moved there when we were in the third or fourth grade; that's the only family with kids that moved in or out.

Sandra and I went through the house on Saturday, making one last check of the place. Both of us felt some sadness stir up. We remembered where and how my father lived during his last years and days. We admired the work that was done in the renovations. We left a note to the new owners, hoping that they love their new home.

I wonder how long it'll be before we'll want or need to ride down that road again.