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Grandma's house. It's all almost over.

They re-ran the numbers and everything so that the couple will (and can) buy the house with what they have. All that needed to be done was a re-inspection of the house to make sure everything was in working order and nothing was left behind (that wasn't included in the contract). They did the re-inspection this morning.


We should be going to closing within the next week.

You know, I thought I'd be happier. And I am happy that the financial struggles will soon cease. But at the same time, I'm sad. I pretty much grew up in that house. I saw it yesterday for the last time and it was so...empty. There's just so many memories attached to it, and now it'll belong to someone who will renovate it completely. It feels like I'm finishing the book on my childhood.


Mom's sad, too. We had this conversation right before she went to bed:

Me: Well, soon we'll have the money and we can move to a bigger place. Start over.

Mom: Yeah. Pick up and start all over.

Me: Again.

Mom: Again.

Me: Hopefully one day we won't have to.

Mom: That would be nice. I'm tired of moving.

I don't know. It's just weird.


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