Where's the Stress?

The week following pack-the-POD-day went fast. Different friends came each day to help me and I had time to say good-bye.

Daughter The Last and her boyfriend helped me get the rest of the stuff into the POD. It was dark and it was raining. Oh brother, what a mess. She got really tired and just started shoving things in. I didn't care; I was so grateful for her help. When we finished my knee was really, really paining me. I thought it was about midnight but the clock said almost 2am!! No wonder she was so tired.

The last week was not stressful, but the last day was chaos. The final walk through at 10 am: still a lot of boxes, cardboard, papers and bags all over the basement floor. The buyers had their list of things I was selling and looked at each one and bargained hard to reduce the price. I did not fight very hard. It did not seem worth it in light of the big fat check I was going to be walking away with. They wanted me to clean the oven and I said I can't. Can't you hire someone to do it? No, I'm sorry, I can't. The contract said "as is". I am going to sweep the whole house, as the contract says. I wish I could scour everything from top to bottom but I cannot. She reads to me from the contract:"free from debris". I say that means all this paper and trash. The realtor tried to claim that when they looked at the house before the oven was clean. I said no it wasn't. It has been like that a long time. Guilt trip bubbling beneath the surface for leaving a dirty oven but they relaxed when I said it's a self-cleaning oven.

They tried every window and every faucet and I thought didn't you check these things out before you wrote a contract "as is"?

They are nice people. But I was not sure if they were playing up their refugee status for all it was worth, working on my sympathy, or whether they were totally sincere. Every time I agreed to his low price offer he thanked me over and over. He told me how they came over after the Viet Nam war and how it hard it was, etc. Priming me for the next bargaining session? I don't know. When I found out later that she is a realtor herself and he a lawyer, I have to wonder. They know all the ploys of bargaining.

He tried to hurry her up. I said you can have the brand new stove if you will quit bothering me about not cleaning the oven. The realtor said she's taking it personally. No, I said. I simply cannot clean it today.

She said we'll have to do another walk through at 3:30.

I finally broke down (figuring I needed every second the rest of the day to clear out). I said if you'll let me leave everything on the list here in the house, you can have it all for free; I will just get all the trash out. They were thrilled.

One more thing I needed to do: go to work and say goodbye and turn in my card. So Patsy dropped my daughter and I off and we ate there while she ran to Costco. I said quick goodbyes. The store manager did not know I was leaving. H.R. took my picture for the Wall of Fame, co-worker of the month, which was 6 months ago. Limped as fast as I could down to my boss, sat down, "I have 30 seconds to say good-bye to you." He looked kind of shocked... thirty seconds? I said I always wanted another son. I said how is it going? Different day, same ---- he said. I did not tell him he really needs to clean up his language. I wish I could have been working these past few weeks but I could barely walk. We stood up and I hugged him with best wishes in his upcoming marriage. And I zipped out.

Met Child the Third at the exit and Patsy picked us up and we tore into the house. Stuffed everything into my car, dragged things to the street. Swept. They came at 3:15 "you can't come in yet, I'm still sweeping." They pulled lots of things out from the junk on the street "for the renters".

After the walk through, I locked the door and followed Joanne to the Title Company. Princess was in a little pocket of space in the front seat. It was cool, comfortable for her in the car.

Closing went very smoothly ... Joanne and I chatted and ate chocolates out of the big jar in the middle of the huge, glossy table. I had a view of my car from the window, so that if anyone tried to get into my car..... well, Joanne assured me no one would try anything with Princess in there.

Done.

At the girls' apartment and had my diet-to-go meal with me and we ate together. It was quiet. I mean their TV was on but there was no easy conversation or jokes.

When we went out to the car, they said good-bye to the dog first and then we hugged each other. Child the Third was crying a little and I was surprised at the strength of Daughter the Last's hug. She wouldn't let go. I felt awful. I did not expect that. I figured she'd be thinking: Yea! Mom's gone. We can do whatever we want!

I was sprinkling a little and getting dark. The whole drive down I kept thinking what have I done? What have I done? What have I done? It's final. Am I crazy?

It was 11:15 pm but I took 2 hours to unpack the car, because if I didn't, the POD would trap the car in the garage for 5 days. When it was empty I parked down by the pool.

So apparently the stress was all compressed into the last day. Every other time I've moved was hugely stressful for weeks prior. This time I only had one day of it. That's much better. If I had it to do over, I'd make my goal 3 days before closing and I'd move completely out and stay with friends the last few nights, as several of them offered.

Oh, well, next time.