Houses

Our home is here. We would just like to have a house to put it in. One of those linguistic anomalies, a short sale takes a lot longer. Not as long as they used to, as banks are glutted with these.

My mother is at a hotel near the Detroit airport with her niece - widow of her beloved nephew. B is flying with her in the morning to Oklahoma City, then flying back. Her son, my eldest brother, will meet them, and take her on to his home in Texas. The keys to the house I grew up in have been handed over to the new owner. I'd vowed over a decade ago to never set foot in it again. Interesting coincidence, that we are finally looking at getting our own house, just as my original has passed out of her hands. I'm glad it's gone, I hope it has a happier life.

I expect a call from her sometime tomorrow, when she reaches her new home. She is worried about the flight, the last time she was in a plane, it was an eight hour flight in a prop from Detroit to Florida, circa 1958 (?). She was so sick the whole way down, they took a bus back. I was still non-existant. So, I sent her a sick bag, the good ones we give to patients after surgery, and some of the ginger gum that kept me going after my bout of (presumed) food poisoning last month. Honestly, I think she'll be fine, but it's a huge change for her. She never expected to leave that house, it's probably means something that she seems to be abandoning it so quickly and cleanly. I know better than sending a non-functional gift to anyone in the midst of moving, having received a few myself. It's always such a wrench, to be so grateful at the kindness, and so annoyed at the extra burden.