Eviction…

I’ve refrained from writing about my housing predicament for quite awhile now.  It seems easier to focus on the stuff that matters more – my children.  But honestly, I’m really not sure how I can ignore the enormity of the situation I am facing…

At this point, I am counting down the days until the super understanding, super supportive bank sells my house with me still in it.  It’s not their fault I didn’t pay my mortgage (though every payment I send has been sent back for months).  It’s not their concern that I am waiting with my “file under review” amongst thousands who thought that a Making Home Affordable loan modification might make it easier to actually live while living in a home.  And it doesn’t matter to them  one bit that I was totally on time with my mortgage payments until I was added to the MHA program’s “trial modification” which reduced the monthly mortgage for months whilst enabling the bank to foreclose on a home that wasn’t in jeopardy until I sought help.

I’m told that legally the home can’t go to auction while the modification request is pending… but then, I was also told that if not approved for the modification, they’d roll the other part of the mortgage payments resulting from the trial modification back into the loan, so I’d be current and just resume the ginormous monthly payments I started with. Instead, I was told to give them $17,000 up front. I’m having trouble mustering up the faith to believe anything anyone says right now.

So for my kids’ sake, I’ve decided to act like “everything is perfectly normal” (isn’t that a line from Ghost Dad the kid says after her Daddy dies and his ghost shows up? So normal).  I’ve been able to feign apathy and thus avoided tears.  I’ve taken on every possible extra teaching job I could without adding to child care costs. And I think I’ve been pretty darn proactive about my financial situation. After all,  I’ve had a forth job calling the bank for status updates and been told every time there was “high demand,” the file was “under review,” and no “definitive time estimates” for a decision were available. 

When the house is no longer ours, the kids and I will simply crowd back into Oma and PopPop’s place.  Yeah, it’s a big knock on my pride, but the kids will be none the wiser – they’ll be safe, comfortable, and loved regardless of the physical edifice. 

I wish that were a consolation for me, but I feel lied to and cheated.  I put my trust in the bank to ease my burdens before they grew too large to handle, and they have chipped away at my feelings of security for the last eight months.  They have no concern, no remorse, only blame.  I’ve no more trust in government programs. I’ve no trust in lawyers.

God only tests you with what you can handle… I just hope He realizes I’m watching that last straw fall on my camel’s hump right now…

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