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House Seller Blues "The most valuable things in life
are not measured in monetary terms. The really important things
are not houses and lands, stocks and bonds, automobiles and real
state, but friendships, trust, confidence, empathy, mercy, love
and faith." First thing in the morning, we phoned Sharon's mom and dad to find out if any last minute hitches with the pending house sale had come up. Of course there had. Land Titles was throwing a hissy fit over our Power of Attorney handling the proceedings for us. They demanded a specific form be notarized by us before they would complete the transfer. If I'd only known him then, I would have gotten the Dean of Real Estate. Stephen English, a friend and lawyer, faxed us the necessary paperwork. Steve and I used to play squash together a couple of times a week. A great guy; he'd usually let me win. He was successful in business, too - a shining example of how one could be a litigator and still not lose one's soul. "Integrity, balance, sanity," is what should have been inscribed on his business card. With the forms in hand, we scanned Toronto's Yellow Pages and called notary publics for the remainder of the morning. What a hassle. Not a one would notarize the forms that day! I had forgotten life in the real world could be so complicated. (And I didn't miss it one bit!) Frustrated, we took a time out, jumped on our bikes and escaped along peaceful Humber River. Geese paddled about calmly in a pool near a small splashing waterfall, cooling their heels, looking as if they didn't have a care in the world. "They know how to relax and enjoy life," Sharon observed. In a green space, we dropped our bikes and laid on our backs, staring upwards, lost blissfully in the fine art of cloud gazing. "There's a notary with a pen stuck in his eye." After half an hour, my cloudy thoughts became more civilized. "There's one being chased by a bear." We returned to the apartment and phoned Michelle at work. After explaining our predicament, she told us not to worry. When she arrived home, she drove us to a notary public who signed the papers for a king's ransom. But, at that point, beaten and whipped, we could barely muster more than a whimper and a scowl. Papers signed, and notarized in triplicate,
we faxed them back to Steve. Good riddance forms and house! |
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