Copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
I spent the day relaxing since I woke up to a slightly red eye. I'm sure the stress was the major culprit. I'd had run-ins with eye infections in the past, so I knew the drill. But having an eye infection during everything that was going on wasn't what I needed to be dealing with.
I went through my morning routine. This time I started being grateful for my healing and thankful for my health. I focused on what I wanted from my body, which at the moment was a turbo charged healing program. It was the first day we didn't have to move anything. It felt great to have one day off. I think my body was in shock.
My Dad got a call from one of our neighbors, Mary, who started asking him pointed questions.
"Are you all still living up there?" asked Mary.
Dad felt Mary knew something that she wasn't saying, like she had an inkling that something was going on with our Farm. So rather than deny it or try and beat around the bush about it, he was honest and told her the truth. He told her about the Foreclosure, the Eviction, everything. He also told her we were in negotiations with the Bank to buy the Farm back.
"We're all just a breath away [from financial ruin]," Mary said.
Her voice was filled with an understanding of someone who'd been close enough to the financial brink, but hadn't been forced off it yet. I guess that was true for a lot of people. Everyone living in the safety of their homes and their stable jobs, given a slight variation here or there, was really just on the brink of disaster.
We were all in the same boat. It didn't matter whether people had millions sitting in the bank living in some fancy mansion, in some fancy elitist neighborhood. All it took was just the right circumstances and it could all be gone.
There was no such thing as total security. I bet a lot of people didn't even realize how easily it could all be wiped away, in the blink of an eye. My family wouldn't be the only causalities on this national economic battlefield across America. No sir. Unfortunately, there would be millions and some of us would never recover from it.
"It's a tough time for a lot of people," Dad said.
"Everett [Mary's husband] and I just think it's great all the things you've done for us [for their property and the road we lived on]. Is there anything we can do?" she asked.
"No, this is something we have to do," Dad said.
"Well, I want you to know that I won't tell anyone what you just told me."
"Thanks," Dad said.
I'm sure the rumor mill about us would be spinning up soon enough on the road we lived on, if it wasn't already.
Dad had come home that afternoon to get a phone call from the lender's representative, Tom, who held the two other parcels, Parcel C and D. Tom said his firm was putting both parcels up for auction at the end of next month. It was not good news.
While Dad had expected them at some point to start the procedures, he wasn't ready for reality of the phone call. It unsettled him to the core. One more thing to add to the ever growing list of things that he was dealing with. It was another nail in the Farm's coffin.
When I came down to the Glass House for dinner that night, Dad said that he and Mom had just watched "The Secret" again because it had been a tough day. Dad said watching it really helped remind him of what was important, the big picture. He had to work hard at not reacting to all the little stuff that was happening around us because there was only so much he could do, consciously, to fix it.
But that was easier said than done.
"Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go."
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A TASTE OF DESTRUCTION Book 1 (EDITING) is the juice worth the squeeze seriesNon-Fiction
I woke up to a world crumbling around me. Our Family Farm was in the middle of foreclosure as an economic crisis rippled across America. Hope was fading fast and there was no end in sight to the chaos coming for us, ready to destroy everything we...