Fingers crossed

My grandfather on my father's side died the year after I moved home.  He was 90 and active and sharp until the very end. 

His passing left my great uncle, his younger brother, as the last of his generation and the last of the generation in my family.

Family history has always been important to me.  I am not sure that it really matters in the long run, but I was always the most happy listening to my grandparents and their siblings telling stories from earlier times.  Most of them I remember pretty well, but damn, to have had a tape recorder during those stories.

My great uncle never had children.  He was drafted into the army in 1942 and met my great aunt at Fort Sill, Oklahoma at a community dance a few weeks before shipping out over seas.  They married shortly before he left.  He grew up in a family of commercial fishermen.  My great grandfather fished, my grandfather fished and so did my great uncle.  In fact, the boat that he was rebuilding at the time he was drafted is still up on the beach where he drug it in 1942.  By the time he got back from the war, it was beyond the effort it would have taken to put it back in the water.  One of the stories he tells about the trip overseas was about he was the only one on the ship, other than the crew, that did not get seasick.  After a brief stop in Great Britain, he landed at Normandy a couple days after D day.  Another story he told was about being in an armored column, driving a truck.  They were told that when the Stuka bombers came, they were to get off the road and into the ditch so that if they were hit they would not be blocking the road.  The bombers came and he put his truck into the ditch as required and jumped out and jumped under the truck that was in the ditch next to him  He talked about how he could feel shrapnel from the bombs hitting the trucks and his shoes.  When it was all over he crawled out from under the truck to survey the destruction and realized that he had been hiding under an ammunition truck.  "That wasn't very smart!" was all he would say.  He fought in the battle of the bulge and crossed the Rhine with Patton.  After he returned home, he reunited with his new wife (of 4 years!) who had moved here and lived with his parents, my great grandparents, while he was gone.  They opened a small restaurant and he commercial fished with his brothers and worked for one of the local employers.  Later they left and he worked in several different states before finally returning home once again in the early 1980's to retire.  They bought a small house on 5 acres and settled in.  My Uncle, even though retired, did all sorts of odd jobs and was very active in the American Legion and the church.

I was always close with my grandparents on both sides and also with my great uncle and aunt.  After my grandfather passed, I spent a fair amount of time with my great uncle and aunt.  He knew he could count on me to help if needed and my great aunt was happy that he did not have to do things alone. 

About 6 years ago, my great aunt fell and broke her leg.  She was frail to begin with and this was a serious injury that she did not bounce back from.  She ended up in a care facility, which left my great uncle home alone.  He became more and more dependent on my help.  He had health issues of his own.  Prostate cancer and heart issues led to his decline and eventually he passed away about 5 years ago.  This left my great aunt in the home.  I had had medical power of attorney and general power of attorney for both of them for a number of years.  Between my wife and myself, we kept her affairs in order and every other week or so went to visit her.  When she passed, a year later, which frankly was a great blessing, I was surprised to learn, in spite of having power of attorney, that they had left me as the sole beneficiary in their will.

Now, this was very flattering and certainly well intentioned, but after having been in the home for 2+ years there were significant bills that needed to be paid and no assets other than the home.

Long story short, the house has been on the market for almost 4 years (since before my great aunt died actually).  I have been holding the creditors at bay since she died 3 years ago. 

Finally, after a bit of back and forth, I have a buyer.   I have spent the weekend turning on the water, replacing the elements in the water heater, shocking the well and basically opening a house that has been closed for nearly 4 years.  While taking a break, sitting with my dog on the old couch in their living room and looking around, the memories come flooding back.  I am happy to be rid of the house (and the deal is not done yet...so....) and after the bills are paid and accounting for all the work and the expense of maintaining the grounds and the house, I will basically break even.  It is a relief, but it is also the end of an era.  A final punctuation to lives well lived and a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice.  A great relief of responsibility for myself.  But a responsibility I was honored to have.

As I said, it is not a done deal yet.  Close but not done.  So.....fingers crossed.