#MicroblogMondays: Letter to the buyer

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

On Friday, our condo listing went live. Grey and I have been preparing ourselves for years for this moment. Watching the market, doing repairs and updates to our condo that we could afford and would meet our needs. After a fail-start of trying to sell directly to our renters, the decision was made to take the plunge and actually list.

Our unit has been on the market for a total of 4 days. This morning we got an offer for more than the list price, without contingency of financing and a request to close as soon as possible.

In the packet of material we got from this potential buyer was a letter to Grey and me, with her talking about how she loves the unit, the views, the location and all we've done. How there's so much potential with the space. The excitement in this possibility is there and she's hoping we will accept. As I read through the letter, my own narrative began to fill in for a response that likely will never be. The things that will be left unsaid.

Like that first night in our condo after we purchased it, standing out on the balcony to watch the sunset.

Or the time Grey was teaching me how to wire a two-way light switch, which resulted in a pop, leading to a trip to the hardware store. After he rewired the switches and was testing them, I waited till he flipped the top switch 10 times before yelling "BANG!" He still hasn't forgive me for that one.

Or the time S.ears delivery failed to drop off our new stove, leaving me to cancel the order, enlist a new neighbor and drive up to the store to purchase one there, only to turn around and drive it back to our place that evening for me to install. 

And, of course, there's the memories revolving around infertility. The corners I cried in, the doors that were slammed, the stairs I collapsed on when I learned I was miscarrying, the floors that were being replaced during that failed FET.

But also those same stairs the Beats learned to climb up. The windows we stood holding them to show them the mountains. The kitchen sink where they got their first baths and later the bathtub they would bathe in together.

A decade of memories in a place we called home.

Tonight Grey and I will go through this offer, but it is likely we will accept it. Beginning the process of closing this door on a chapter of our lives.