Bull Riding is my favorite sport. Nothing feminine about it. Snorting, slobbering, cute cowboys, amazing animals at the height of their game. Danger, suspense, twisting, turning, and amazing aerials by all involved. Dealing with two complicated real estate transactions closing hours between each other was just as suspenseful. I just wish the ride had only lasted 8 seconds.
VST and I had decided in early January, 2020, that the time had come to sell the VC house. 3300 sq. ft. of beautiful. It had been an unloved and abused repossession when we bought it at a bargain basement price. We had a vision for restoring it to grandeur, and spent 6 years doing just that. Everything in the house was dialed in to perfection for us. Actually for anyone. By the time we decided to sell, there were only two more projects remaining. We needed to have a proper laundry room and one bedroom closet. In January, these were the last two design and building projects VST would accomplish in his life. They were perfection when finished in two weeks, just like all the other projects he had completed before. If you were not told, you would have thought the closet and laundry room were original, he was that good.
The house was barely listed when it sold. We had just decided to sell as we were driving home from lunch. We had spent the morning looking at some houses with a realtor, and found two that we really liked. The discussion on the way home was devoted to the pros and cons of moving, and we decided it was time for us to get off the mountain. The new realtor would be our agent. Within five minutes, my phone rang. It was another realtor we knew. Would we ever consider selling? He had a couple that loved our home. They both worked in VC. Would we, could we, might we sell? They wanted to see the house the next day. We listed. They came. They fell in love and offered. We accepted. All within hours of us deciding to leave. Just like that.
At the same time, VST was driving, worrying about the taxes, building and fixing things, calling me Darlin, and kissing me goodnight. We hadn’t found a new house yet, and had even taken an RV trip at the end of January to a town seven hours away, spending an entire day looking at ten possible choices. VST was himself, although tired and very swollen by the end of the day. He drove the rig to and from our destination, enjoying Willie’s Road House and the trip. He promised we would see the doctor about the troublesome swelling when we got home.
Finally, we found THE house for us. One hour from VC, a single story ranch home on one-half acre of beauty. Totally landscaped with paths and walkways through mature fruit and shade trees. A lush green lawn right out my kitchen window. Bird houses and plenty of birds to raise families in them. An RV barn, interior walls totally finished. A four car garage. Three bedrooms/2 baths. 1907 sq. ft. of beautiful, promising low maintenance allowing us to continue RVing. We both immediately felt at home and made an offer, which was accepted.
We had two realtors, a buyer, a seller, us, and more paperwork than you could imagine. Our VC home had never been part of our family trust. The trust needed to be domesticated in Nevada, and that was on our to-do list. So add an attorney and more paperwork to the mix. And, so the ride began. Cancer entered the mix about two weeks after the bucking bull left the shoot. We held on for dear life with both hands as our lives seemed to spin out of control.
Double inspections, repairs, re-inspections, requests from Title Companies, realtors, buyers, sellers, and escrow companies. Appointments with the lawyer. Endless signings, needed countless times. Cleanings, walk-throughs, plans for moving to and from. Canceling old services, and starting new ones. Hiring movers and choosing THE big day.
All while VST got sick, and sicker, and sicker, and died. In nine weeks from a word I couldn’t even pronounce in the beginning. Choalangiocarcinoma. Cancer of the Bile Ducts.
I entered the transactions with my husband. Joint Tenancy. Husband and Wife. All that goes with that. I closed both deals as a single woman selling and buying alone. All that goes with that. My realtors were stunned. Both seasoned and knowledgeable, neither had ever had a client die during a transaction. Let alone a healthy client that was thrown off his game and trampled to death by cancer. We all walked together through two months, holding each other and our breaths. Twists and turns. Changes in speed and direction. Covid complicating the entire ride.
Patiently, they helped me with emailed documents, when my computer wouldn’t agree to e-signings. They handled things from the sidelines that I am sure I am happier not knowing about. They made things happen that seemed impossible. They helped peel me off the ceiling on many days when I was ready to forget the entire thing. They listened and advised. They gave me the right amount of space and support. They were treading scary waters, as Covid was new. Risking their own health, they showed buyers our home and me my new home. They coordinated the ride, and made sure things closed within 24 hours of the sale and purchase.
I was alone when VST died. I had just checked on him and he was still hanging on. He was comfortable and quiet, and I left the room for just 5 minutes. When I came back, he was gone. The phone rang. I answered in a babbling, choking, wailing kind of way that was incoherent. My sweet realtor was on the other end, the first voice to say, “Calm down, I am so sorry, how can I help?” There was no help. We lost our balance. The bull won.
Think about all those professionals that took time to say, “Calm down. I am so sorry. How can I help?” I made of list of the most insignificant times that there was an angel in human form that made all the difference to me. Someone at the post office. The doctor’s office. A neighbor. And even a guy making me a Subway sandwich. I took the time to write them a Thank You, for comfort they gave while just doing their jobs. Not even knowing how much it meant to me. Do the same. It is a small part of our healing. Acknowledging the fans that cheered, held their breaths, and helped us get up and start our journey through widowhood. Hold on, its okay to use both hands, this is a tough bull to ride.
Please note– A special shout out to Penny Phillips from Coldwell Banker in Fernley, Nevada, and David Shriver from Coldwell Banker in Carson City, Nevada. You were both a Godsend to VST and me during our darkest hours. You lovingly helped me say Goodbye and Hello while carrying me through a horrible time. I love you both.