Cremation, Location, Location

Charlotte has recently become enamored with other people's back yard play sets. She calls them "parks". We live a block and a half from a real park that would probably cost more than our house to construct. So, she isn't getting one of her own.

But that doesn't stop Char from asking. I'll admit some people's back yard playgrounds look pretty enticing to a little girl, and Char will yell out as we pass, "I want to live with that park!"

Daphne tells her, "Charlotte, we can't live there. That house isn't even for sale. People can't just go up to a house and say, 'We'd like to live here, please. So, please move your stuff out.'"

After last week, I have to disagree.

Although she didn't golf, the town home my mother-in-law left her daughters is just a wedge shot away from the Echo Valley Country Club. There are new developments being constructed, but an older unit that's been immaculately kept up is a pretty enticing playground to a grown up girl.

How do I know?

Deb died on a Monday, and her funeral was on a Friday. Three days later while we were still reeling from the loss and trying to figure out what to do next, a woman appeared in Deb's driveway. She was on her phone, and as we fumbled around the garage, she began to slowly circle the house reciting observations.

After her loop, she finally spoke to us, "Hi! I'm blank, and I'm soooo sorry to hear about your mom. I see you're moving some things out of her house. That's soooo sad... I remember how sad it was when my mother died... [long pause] Ummmm, I hate to ask at such a sad time for your family, but could I look inside your mother's house? I'm really interested in it."

Daphne told her that the house was a complete mess, and we just got our two-year-old to sleep after a 40-minute struggle.

"Oh, that's not a problem! I'll be super quiet. I just want to see the bathrooms and the kitchen cabinets." And she just walked in. As Daphne tries to keep this stranger from opening the door to the back bedroom, I spy through a window a woman running/walking down the hill towards us. So, I go outside to meet her.

"Hi! My name is blank. While we were golfing, my partner mentioned that you had recently lost your mother, and you were probably getting ready to sell the house. I just know how hard it is to lose your mother! How are you all doing? [long pause] Did your mother just let the house go when she got sick, or did she take care of it?"

I assure her my mother-in-law took great pride in her house, but somebody else was already inside checking it out. The woman actually looks at me as if I have offended her.

"You already have someone else in there?"

"Kinda," I reply, "But she just showed up, like you."

Another woman appeared on Tuesday, and she was quick to share her empathy... and then her golf handicap.

At this point I selfishly thought the most frustrating aspect of selling Deb's house would be dealing with people's insincerity. I hate it when people assume I'm stupid. But after listening to Boyd, Deb's long time companion, I have realized that none of this is about me at all. He told us, "This is the last time you have the opportunity to make sure that no one can take advantage of your mother."

It's tempting, during all this mess, to just jettison all her property as quickly as possible. You know, just get it over with and be done. But we can't take that route.

Someone might lie to us so they can sneak a peek, but no one is going to steal Deb's house.