Sometimes karma's a bitch.
Or not. I don't know the whole story. But oftentimes that makes for a better story than the whole story. Look at history.
To recap: Ida sold her house. She listed with Kristina and Mark Walsh, who cheated her (well, not technically, but from my perspective) out of what she deserved by flipping it to a friend who flipped it to a developer. Ida exits stage left. And then Kristina and Mark exit stage right, well, stage south, as they move a few blocks away and dump their dump of a house on the Friedmans.
I wrote about Ida's house a few days ago, and THAT DAY my mother called me and mentioned that my father had been talking to the guy who lives next door to them and HE said....
Kristina and Mark's house was foreclosed on and is bank-owned.
Well, the guy who lives next door to my parents has a lot of things to say (I guess he's like me) and so I took it with the proverbial grain of salt and put it in the back of my mind.
Then I went for a walk down to the coffee shop, passing their house on the way. Sure enough, there's the sign. Bank owned. Coming soon onto the market. No curtains in the windows, no lights on inside. Papers tacked to the front door.
It's hard not to set my jaw and say good riddance. Just like the doula taught me when I was in labor the second time, draw my jaw down, relax those facial muscles, and breathe. I walked on past and thought not a single negative thing. Because it's too bad, really, and a foreclosed house anywhere is just another sign of the times we're finding ourselves in. And who wants more reminders of that? It's a hole in a neighborhood and lives that have to be rebuilt. And even if I'm not a big fan of the lives needing rebuilding (assuming, of course, that they don't see this as some kind of perverse positive), I can't wish that sort of luck on anyone.
Still, it did make me shake my head.
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