The following morning, Brett and I grabbed breakfast at a place called the Tippy Cow Cafe and then headed back to Fort Collins. We got a four hour head start the day before, which meant that in six glorious hours, we would be back in our respective homes.
The next day I contacted the man who installed Dad’s sprinkler system and he said he’d be out the following week to get it up and running. I also called Kristal, the realtor who I went through when purchasing my condo. I wasn’t sure if there was anything she could do to help me, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to pick her brain- lo and behold, she ended up saving the day! She offered to contact some realtors in Montana and personally vet them. Kristal assured me that once she found the right fit for my situation, she’d get us in contact with one another. By the next morning, she had done just that. In a matter of hours, I was breaking up with Mr. Laid Back (first realtor), and hiring on my new realtor Josh. It seemed like things were going to work out after all.
I should note that in terms of the possible asbestos contamination, all that is required to sell the house is that I make that information known in the disclosure statements- legally and morally, that makes perfect sense to me. You might be wondering who would consider buying a home in that condition, but sadly, old homes in that part of the country often contain vermiculite insulation. I will say that Grandma spent most of her life in that home and died in her nineties of old age- no lung issues. Dad died of a heart attack- no lung issues there either.
I hope one day it will be a good home for whoever inhabits it next, I truly do.
A couple days after I got back, I woke up to two messages from Cousin Mark. In the first one he told me he’d decided to leave the washer and dryer at the house after all. He also said he was going to get the water turned on- despite me having told him I would handle things from here on out.
But it was the second message that revealed how he truly felt about me…
It read: “I miss your father. In his unsigned will he left the vehicles and house to me. You were assigned executor of his estate. Your clarification message to me (the one where I previously explained that we did not agree in reference to politics and Covid policies), has opened my eyes and given me a better idea of what may have happened between you and him- referring to when Dad disowned me. You stand to make a sizable amount from this venture and hopefully, it will give you peace of mind or buy you happiness. In the future, if you don’t agree with someone’s opinion, then ignore it. I know you didn’t have the easiest life, but just think, you are not alone.”
This was the first I was hearing about any of this, and needless to say, I was in shock- I was also angry and insulted.
Luckily, he had blocked me on messenger before I could respond and inevitably say something I was bound to regret. As I processed his account of what had transpired, I came to the exact same conclusion I did after receiving Dad’s letter in which he cut ties with me. There would be no getting through to Mark. He clearly had no idea who I was, and furthermore, he had made up his mind. We would never agree on reality and thus, any further discussion would be pointless…it was in my best interest to let it go, and to accept that all this hadn’t taken place to bring us closer to one another- it happened to bring about the truth.
I also concluded that since Cousin Mark had such resentment for me, he never intended to clean out the house- he simply told me that to get money from me. If that didn’t work, Uncle Don would guilt me, as he did the moment I arrived in Montana. If that didn’t do the trick, then Mark would claim that Dad in fact, left the house to him, and was therefore entitled to something.
Ironically, in the month and a half since I returned home, both Uncle Don and Cousin Mark have reached out to me on separate occasions. First, Uncle Don left a message asking me to rent Dad’s house to him-I chose not to respond. A week ago, Cousin Mark left a kindly worded message asking if he could buy Dad’s house for a discounted price because he could no longer bear to live with Uncle Don. If you’re wondering why I didn’t block them, I did, and yet I still got their messages. Could be operator error though- me and technology have a strained relationship at best.
Dad’s house is currently on the market waiting to be sold.
As I mentioned in the previous article, this trip and this experience as a whole, was never about the house. It was about highlighting where people stood with me and where I stood with them- not just family members, but those I knew from the beloved town of Helmville where I grew up and had hoped to return to someday.
I had mistakenly believed that Dad’s passing was as simple as choosing not to be involved in his affairs, but the Universe quickly steered me into taking a very active role- one that made it clear that this crazy journey was really about letting go. Letting go of my beliefs about past relationships and more importantly, letting go of beliefs that kept me so invested in what was that I wasn’t paying enough attention to what lies ahead.
Notably, I am in the process of rewriting the final chapter of my memoir so that it better reflects who I am in my current state of being and what I’ve gleaned from the last several months. I am wrapping up the last chapter of my book, while concurrently finishing the last chapter of this phase of my life. In many ways, my trip to Montana led me here- and I could not be more grateful:)