I was talking to a lady the other day about her family. She was telling me how she had a nice house and a small car. She had spent her life raising her children in that house. She had spent countless hours mowing the lawn and making sure the flower beds always looked their best. Every single summer she would drag out her paint brushes and spend days touching up the fence around the yard. She told me how she was getting older and wasn’t sure she would be able to keep up much longer. Her husband had passed away a couple years ago and she was left with the work on her own. Her kids were grown and moved away, too far away to come help her out. As I talked to her I got the idea that she was a proud woman who had always managed to do the work on her own and was not interested in asking for help.
The conversation came around to what I did for a living and I told her that I was a Real Estate Associate. Her eyes lit up briefly and then faded as she imagined selling her home. This wasn’t just a home to her, it was all of her memories encased in four walls. I listened to her stories and then handed her my card as we parted and told her if she ever decided to move into something more manageable, to call me. I never expected to hear from her.
Two days later she called, she had realized that she just couldn’t keep up on her own. I met her for coffee where we discussed what she would love best. I helped her decide the best option, helped her list her home, and find something more suited to her needs. An important part of my job is advocating for seniors and it is something that it very important to me. I have been caring for my aging mother for years and appreciate the struggles with selling the family home.