Taking a tearful trip down memory lane as I scroll through pictures of my late mom's home place, remembering childhood memories of snapping beans on the front porch, Sunday dinners each week with my grandparents, my aunt working her ass off in the yard and garden, washing freshly dug potatoes at the well pump, picking rhubarb for pies, rolling down the huge hills, picking pears, picking flowers, etc. Makes me miss them all even more than I usually do, especially with mothers' day approaching.
The process of selling it is still in motion. Hurry up and wait, and then some. Luckily, someone who will love and value it just as much as she did is trying to purchase it. Someone I had a discussion with about it way before it was ever put on the market. He's a deputy sheriff with a huge heart, a beautiful family, and a love for the land. She never wanted to separate it into parcels, and neither does he. He wanted to get it to prevent someone else from getting it and turning it into subdivision.
May the paperwork trail flow smoothly as the love keeps getting poured into it. Hope you're proud of how we've handled everything, mom. Thanks for the subtle and not-so-subtle signs along the way that have helped steer the process. Miss you everyday.
