Except that the guy from the bank told my father yesterday that although finally approved for a loan modification, if we managed to pay for a reinstatement, we didn't need a modification. Gag, cough, sputter. What? Does he have any idea how much we had to do to come up with the ridiculous amount needed to stay the execution of my homeownership? Clearly, he doesn't care.
If only people in the service industry thought before they spoke. I have spent the last eight-nine months fearing the loss of my home. I have taken on more "extra income" opportunities than any single mother should ever have to attempt. I have been hurrying from one job to the next, from the day sitter to the night watchman, and I have a fog-filled year to prove it. If it wasn't for my obsession with photography, I wouldn't have any idea what happened since September...
The papers are signed, notarized, and FedEx guarantees that on Tuesday all will be right with the world. We shall see.
In the mean time, my kids had a blast at the pool today. Ya resumed his affection for aquatics and Chi's gills were eager to experience the water again.
This was an awesome morning activity!
Regardless of what happens when the mortgage papers are delivered, I am truly blessed. Blessed to have a moving crew on standby. Blessed to have attentive ears to hear my plight from beginning to end, and who always have a rant prepared to chastise the bank's actions and the insanity of the situation. Blessed to know that there are at least four homes welcoming my kids and I in should we ever need it. Blessed to have learned that a home is not a physical edifice, but the company of those I love. Blessed to have a father who does whatever it takes to rescue his daughter. Simply blessed beyond measure.
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