The first closing I went to was in 2005, when we bought our house. I was 23, newly married. I didn’t like the house but I was tired of shopping. Dave thought it was perfect and, as it would be so many times before and since, I went with what he wanted. The closing wasn’t noteworthy other than I remember debating whether to put the house in both of our names or just mine. He didn’t want to be on the deed, which I thought was absurd. We ended up signing together as the owners, a decision I would later regret. I remember that we sat across the table from the sellers. In the days before e-signing, it was necessary to see the face and shake the hand of the person you were buying a house from.
When we closed on the record store, we signed the documents at the store, in the presence of our banker and the sellers, everyone smiling and shaking hands. It was a happy closing, and easy, just a few signatures. We borrowed the purchase money from a bank owned by the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe, the only bank that would take a chance on us and our small business dream in 2009, after 7 other banks had told us no. We had no idea what we were doing but we were so happy to be doing it. The loan was able to qualify for an SBA guarantee, and we repaid it in full, on schedule, 7 years later. On the day of the last payment, I sent a bouquet to the banker who had helped us, Joanne Whiterabbit, and thanked her for changing my life.
The worst closing of my life was selling the record store. After a year of trying to sell it on our own, I had caved and hired a business broker, something Dave had been against. She found a buyer immediately and got us our asking price. I was delighted and couldn’t have been happier, but Dave was miserable to be selling the store and was struggling with his feelings about it. Everything crumbled at the closing.
He hadn’t liked the broker from the get go, and he hated that we had to sign the documents at a title company. Since he had dealt with settling his brother’s estate, he had a personal vendetta against title companies and saw them (and all bankers) as scavengers and blood thirsty savages, preying on poor people and costing them unnecessary money.
Going into that meeting he was already a mess. We got there early and sat together in the car while he hyperventilated. Our broker was late to the meeting. We went in and attempted to have a conversation with the nice couple that was buying the store from us, but Dave was hostile from the start, refusing to shake hands.
When the title company woman suggested we get started with the signing without the broker, Dave went through the roof when he saw that the title company was charging us a $250 fee for their services (for perspective, we were being paid $100K for the sale). I had to pull him out into a stairway and quietly whisper-scream at him to PLEASE, for the LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY, can you please HOLD IT TOGETHER long enough to GET THROUGH THIS for FUCK’S SAKE, these are the ONLY BUYERS we have, and we need to SIGN THE DOCUMENTS and get the FUCK out of this BUILDING.
He went to the bathroom and washed his face and returned to the meeting, where he exploded again when he learned that we would not be handed a cashier’s check at the end as he had anticipated, but instead would be receiving the money via wire by the end of the business day. When the broker was handed her cashier’s check, he lost his temper about how she hadn’t done anything or helped the sale in any way and didn’t deserve to be paid before we were paid.
I asked him to please go sit in the car, and after he stormed out of the building, I apologized to everyone and thanked them all so much for their help. The wire arrived by the end of the day, as anticipated, and the broker had the title company refund the $250 fee he had been so angry about.
When I sold the house last year, ope not last year it’s not last year anymore. Ahem, when I sold the house 3 months after he died, this time I was the wreck hyperventilating in the car. I met the woman from the title company in a neighborhood I don’t remember, I asked my realtor not to come. The only things I needed to bring to the appointment were my ID and his death certificate, which states “Cause of Death: Hanging (Suicide)”. I think a lot about the way that’s phrased, and why it’s phrased that way and if that’s necessary. I hate that I have to go through this every time I need a copy of his death certificate. Does it need to say hanging? Could it not say asphyxiation or broken neck or something less graphic? Are those less graphic? Does it need to say suicide, that seems unnecessary, are there hangings that are not suicide? Only if you’re a cowboy. Can one be hanged accidentally? My mind reels at what kind of OSHA violations a company may have in order for someone to accidentally hang themselves on a complicated building site, the only scenario I can imagine where hanging is not synonymous with taking one’s own life.
I cringe when I hand the death certificate to the woman and watch her read it. I note when her eyes get to that line and the pained face that she makes.
She takes me through the paperwork. Next to every signature line for me was his named printed with (deceased) in parentheses. I wished I had let him win the fight about my name only on the deed. I wrote my name as fast possible, when she tried to explain what each document meant and gave me a chance to read it, I stopped her and told her frankly, “I’d like to do this as fast as possible so I can go cry in the hallway, if that’s ok.” She nodded and started turning the pages rapidly, pointing to the signature lines in silence. It took under five minutes. At the end, she asked me if I wanted a cookie and I said yes. She gave me a hug and me and my cookie made it to the elevator before the tears started to pour.
And now, tomorrow I get to close on my new house! My first only-me house, and I’m so excited. I was given the choice to do it in my realtor’s office or the title company, and I chose the realtor’s office. I get to e-sign everything from home in the morning and I wired the down payment last week, so the meeting is just to see my ID and shake hands with everybody. I’m bringing flowers and chocolates to my banker and my realtor, they’ve been such a joy to work with. Buying this house has been so fun, and I can’t wait for this new chapter to start.
Congratulations on your new home. May it be filled with good times and wonderful memories. Cheers!!!