For my homie-- er, mommy

As I have written about before, my brother Thor and I are in the process of selling our mother's house. We've been in that process for more than a year now, and it is getting very, very old.

We've had several firm offers fall apart. We've had a couple of contracts fall apart.

We had one contract fall apart on closing day. TWICE.

Honestly, I don't know how people make a living in real estate without self-medicating with copious amounts of alcohol and/or topquality prescription meds4u purchased discreetly and often from the Internets.

Last weekend Thor and his wife Lila were in town again for what should have been a weekend celebrating the Friday close of the house.

It wasn't, because the house did not close on Friday. So, instead, it was a frugal weekend of dour contemplation of impending financial ruin and phone calls to the company that was supposed to install carpet and other flooring throughout half of my house* to say, "Um, don't come because I can't pay you yet."

*Have I mentioned that, because we were doing the tear-out, we are walking on subfloor in half the house? And that the neatly rolled carpet is still in my garage, which flooded and soaked that carpet, so now it smells like moldy dog ass? Have I mentioned that?

At some point over the weekend, I told Lila that we needed to have a seance and speak sweetly but firmly to Mom, begging her to let go of the house.

Lila exclaimed that she had told my brother the very same thing on the drive to New York from Boston.

So, one evening as we were gathered here for a barbecue, Lila poured Mom a nice glass of wine (hey - it always worked in life) and we gathered on the porch. Buttercup was especially excited about this, and was jumping around in the princess dress she received for her birthday.

We poured ourselves glasses of wine, and raised them in toast to Mary. We said a few words.

Me: Mom. Let my real estate go!

Buttercup: GIVE IT TO JESUS!

(Don't ask me; I have no idea.)

After our toast, we held Mom's glass over the deck railing, and gave the wine to the grassy earth. Then we all went inside and drank the rest of the bottle.

A little later, Buttercup asked for some milk, and as soon as we had filled her cup, she shot like an arrow (an arrow swathed in tulle and pink satin) for the back door, holding her milk above her head, calling out, "Give it to Jesus!"

And she did.

I will leave the story there. I will not tell you that Lila and I have now both created small altars (in the fashion of Dia de los Muertos) in our homes, and that we ply honor Mary almost daily with small gifts such as wine, a book of matches, a crumb of cheese danish, a silver pram charm for her bracelet, a Constant Comment tea bag, flowers, candles, slices of lemon, a doll's shoe, a ladybug bead, two packets of Equal sweetener and anything else for which we think she might have use.

No - I think it's best if I leave that part of the story out.

Comments

[Jenny]

GIVE IT TO JESUS!

I. love. this. Completely hysterical.

[ppb]

This is the best.

[Janet]

This was great. When she's ready, she'll let go.

[jenn]

Found you through Mom's Daily Dose, and I'm glad I did! This post is hilarious!

Have you tried burying a St. Joseph statue? We were selling our house last summer and the contract fell through with less than a week till closing. We buried St. Joseph and seriously prayed for his help. (We were at risk of losing the house we were building.) Less than a week later, we had another contract. St. Joe works!

[Michelle]

Hey! I have a little brother named Thor too. I thought I was the only one...great writing by the way, I just linked here through the daily dose.