This is a fictional five-part series containing real estate letters written by bidders and presented to the sellers of a local family's estate. Enjoy.
Dear Nelson Family,
On Halloween, my brother and I walked to Grant Avenue.
We put on our Snow White and Woody Woodpecker masks and we
ran from the Wrights to the Mountains, the Freeberns, the Endieveris, the Homkeys and the Shevlins.
Your house was always my favorite. Large and colonial
(before I knew what a ‘classic’ city colonial was) and full of happy friendly
faces. With a pretty little yard and side door off the driveway to what was
probably the kitchen, just like the house I grew up in.
I was never scared of trick or treating there. Your mom gave
out Milky Ways and it felt like home.
So, when the house came up for sale, I told my kids that we
were going to try hard, so very hard, to get it. You see, we moved back here
last year after too many years of trials and tribulations in a midwestern state
where I’ve lived since college. I know Covid has hit everyone particularly hard
but for me, it changed my life forever. I lost my husband and father of my two
children. Looking for a fresh start, my kids and I returned to this town and
we’ve been trying to secure a home ever since.
I wanted to get settled in time for the start of school, so
we relocated in June, and Miles and Quintin have adapted well to the local
schools even though we have been living in a small and dingy apartment where we
thankfully only have two months left on our one-year lease. They know I am
trying my best but sharing a room hasn’t been easy for them. One is sad, the
other angry and since Covid took their Dad, they have become far savvier than
kids should be in the ups and downs of life. Because they are little, they do
not understand why we can’t just buy and move into whatever house pops up.
This one, though, is perfect for us. When I walked through
your open house today, I pictured where I would put the Christmas tree and
where Miles would store his football gear and where Quintin could work on his
model airplanes and where our cat might lounge on a windowsill. I pictured
where my husband’s urn of cold gray steel might be placed. I pictured blue
delft china, a red strawberry cookie jar, coffee with neighbors and weekend walks
to the farmer’s market.
I know it’s down to the wire and you are only accepting bids
until 5:00 pm Sunday. I am desperately asking that you look at our bid as more
than a number. Please see us. We are a family who you could save from
potentially having to return to the Midwest. My mother, who gave the best years
of her life and career to a local insurance office, lives a three minute drive away
from this exact location and she is repeatedly ill and failing. I am sure you
can understand my desire to be close to her as well.
Thank you for reading this. We are grateful for your time
and consideration.
Carrie Miller
#mushroomtumbler
