Closing In

Ok, I have to admit that the stress is becoming a bit much. Not so much because of all we have to do, but it's the unknown aspect of it all that is wearing me down. Here we are one week out from the date set for the house to be auctioned off and still no word from our mortgage company - Suntrust Mortgage. We have spent months jumping through every hoop they have wanted us to and still they won't "talk" to us. We have left message after message. Even the "Save Our Tennessee Home" directors (and lawyers) have not seen anything like this. Which is all well and good, but only adds to our stress. We agree it's not fair. We agree that they are being (fill in what ever expletive you want here) but they hold all the cards. All we're trying to do at this point is get a 30 day extension for the gov't. program paperwork to go through. Nope, nobody can bite the bullet and give us an answer. The other answer we can't seem to get is "when do we have to vacate the premises?" Oh we know they have to give us 30 days notice - but was the notice of the house going up for auction it? Nobody knows. So we really have no choice but to walk away and move on. We can't stay if they aren't willing to work with us at all. It would be more of a financial suicide to stay than to walk away... in the long term. I remember reading in papers and watching on tv how people have ruined houses they've lost through foreclosure and I remember shaking my head and wondering how anyone could do that. After our experience with Suntrust - I can honestly say that I truly understand the emotion and pain behind those who resort to such actions. We are not like that - inherently - but I sadly admit that the thought of torching the house did cross our minds - and no, not REALLY seriously - I don't think. But we won't do anything to damage this beautiful home. We pray blessings over the next owners and hope that everything works out well for them and that they make many happy memories here. We will walk out and make sure the doors are locked and everything is clean.

It's hard to pack when you don't know where you're going. Looks like, for now, we'll be having to put all our stuff in storage and stay with my son and his family in their tiny house. My daughter-in-law, Kim, bless her heart, has been trying to find us a place to rent but the pickings have been slim. Houses are renting within hours of being listed. Lots of military moving in that want to get settled before school starts next month. Ideally it would be great if we had 30 more days here to be able to go down there and find someplace, then come back here and move our stuff once. Unless a last minute appeal is granted, that's not going to happen. So to keep from being crushed from all the stress, I have to keep my eye on the prize - quality time with my grandson Eli. He is what makes doing this even remotely possible. I have to admit that in the past few weeks, I've found myself closing myself in and retreating to that quiet place in my mind so that I can attack the daunting task ahead of me. I have guarded my heart so carefully because I honestly cannot handle one more heartache and loss. I am working super hard not to let the stress rear it's ugly head. It's only been a month since I was in the hospital and stress definitely exacerbates IPF. I've also pulled away from dear friends - who under normal circumstances, I'd want to spend time with before I go... but I just can't. I don't have time to cry. I'm not strong enough to cry. I don't want to think about all that I'm losing and leaving behind. I've not hidden the fact of how much I love Adamsville and the people who have become my family in my heart. It's hard. So I've been ignoring them as best as possible - holed up here at the house for the time I have left. I've been sorting and packing. This weekend we're having a moving sale and hope to get rid of some stuff and add to the funds to get us moved.

As word is starting to spread, most people are shocked. I think they honestly believed that somehow this would all work out and we'd be able to stay and life would go on as normal. Normal. What is normal? Certainly I have not known normal for a very long time. We didn't mean to shock anyone. Nobody thought we'd be able to work this out more than we did. And we really, really tried. But I guess God had other plans. We're not moving completely blind. We're moving closer to family, to an area that we know quite well and already love. We have a lot of good friends down there that we've met over the years - many I am looking forward to spending time with. Those are the things I HAVE to focus on now that the wheels have begun turning. One week. We'll git 'er done. I know with a few phone calls, I could have a bunch of people helping, but I hesitate to do that. It might help with the work but add to the emotional stress - and that's the part that is tricky for me. It's not that I'm being prideful or don't want anyone's help, it's just that I don't want to say "good-bye" - plain and simple. Good-byes hurt me and when I'm hurt, I cry and when I cry, I have trouble breathing and then I get NOTHING done. One week. I don't have time for tears.

So if you think I'm ignoring you - you're probably right... but don't take it personally. It's a defensive mechanism that I have to activate to help me get through this. One week - no home to go to - not sure what will happen with this one - still haven't reserved the truck until we know for sure we have to be out next week - LOTS of packing to do and throwing a moving sale in to boot. Yep, one week, one very stressful week. One more church service here in Adamsville and then we'll be gone. My nerves are frayed and yet somewhere in the midst of all this, I have a peace. I am NOT running around like a chicken with my head cut off and for a super organizer, that's a first for me. It's even scaring Oliver because I'm being so calm - for now. I'm sure the tears will come when we drive the moving truck and the car out for the last time down our dirt road. I know I'll cry when I share ((hugs)) for the last time with people who have become very dear to me since we've been here. The pulmonary fibrosis doesn't help with that part either, because we'll all be cognizant that it will probably be for the last time. Travel is very hard on these old lungs. That's why we don't go down to see the kids more often - well, and the lack funds, of course.

We honestly thought when we bought this house that this would be where we would live out our lives. Never in a million years did we believe we'd be in the position we are in now. While it is a surprise to us, we know it isn't a surprise to God. He has already gone ahead of us and worked out all the details. I'm nervous about living with my son - only because he and I don't always see eye to eye and with all this stress being added to the IPF, um, my nerves will be fried and it's gonna be sticky in that little place. I have to give that to God too and I pray my son will give me a little slack and try to understand. My dreams are shattered, no doubt about that, but I have seen in the past what amazing things God can do with our shattered mosaics of life. It may not be turning out to be the picture that I imagined and dreamed of as a young girl, but it is turning into the magnificent work of art that God has had in His mind all along. So look out Florida, you have no idea how much trouble adding a couple of Hassetts to your ranks can cause... but we're all in for quite a ride. And I, for one, am looking forward to taking one day soon and spending it with my grandson, playing in the white sugar sands at the beach and spending more and more time with that lovely young man. He and I have a lot of catching up to do.

So please, if you're inclined to cry - try and stay strong - for me. It's taking all the power and focus I have to try and keep it together right now as we venture into this uncharted territory. Please pray for us. Those prayers mean more than words can convey. Thank-you for the places you hold in our hearts... I have to say that my little mosaic is coming along quite nicely and I see that there are still parts left to be filled in before I take the finished product home to the King to be judged. (In case you're wondering, yes, I do have plenty of tissues and a whole bunch of oxygen to get me through this next week.) Thanks again and God Bless...