It's been a whole week. One week ago today that I drove up to our gate and spotted the notice. I had seen one such notice like that before--on the day we'd gotten a Notice of Foreclosure. Back then I'd been caught by surprise, too. And so the bone-chilling trepidation, the knowledge that whatever this was, it probably wasn't good, it all combined in my chest as I pulled the thing down.
THREE DAY NOTICE OF EVICTION.
I don't remember heading back to my car, the papers clasped in my hands. I remember my daughter asking, "Mommy, what is it?" I remember telling her, "It's more bad news." Our poor child had been through the ringer in recent years. She'd watched both her grandparents die, the pony she'd grown up riding, her dog, one of her favorite cats...and now this. My heart wept at this new, horrible sadness she'd have to endure.
We'd lost our home.
We own a ranch--or should I say "owned" because at this point I have no idea where this latest challenge will take us. So we owned a ranch, one with lots of animals, pets that will have to be given away now because most landlords won't tolerate numerous barn cats, dogs, horses, a goat, chickens--you name it.
Where would we go?
That's the question that's haunted my sleep for the past six days. We have options, fortunately, all of them scary. It means change. Another jump off a cliff. Another chance for misfortune.
It kills me now to drive up to our property. That swing beneath the oak tree where my daughter spun so happily on her birthday, (was that really only two months ago?) it would have to be removed. The grassy area in front of our house, so many beloved pets buried there. Now they, too, would have to be left behind. And the barn that we'd scrimped and saved and shed blood, sweat and tears to build--some day it would belong to another person.
By the next day, I knew I had to leave. I needed a place to regain my sanity. To think. To plan. And so I packed up my family and headed to a friend's house in the Bay Area. And as I learned more about what had happened, or more importantly, the fraud the bank had committed upon us, I began to grow angry. You see, we'd signed Loan Modification paperwork in July. Each month thereafter we had paid our mortgage on-time. My husband even checked in with them in to ensure all was well. This was mid-September.
One week after his phone call they'd sold our home on the courthouse steps.
One week.
Had we been told at ANYTIME that our Loan Modification had been denied. Or that we'd somehow defaulted. Or that our house was about to be sold, we had assets we'd been prepared to liquidate. Assets that had been sitting, waiting to be sold in the event of just such an emergency. But we weren't even given the chance. Our lender had quietly sold our home out from under us. No posted notices. No public announcements in the paper. No letters. Just a Letter of Eviction...after the fact.
So we've decided to stay in our home. We will be "squatting". We might one day get officially booted out, "officially" meaning a court order to vacate the premises. But until that day, we're going to fight. Our lender is in Breech of Contract. The Loan Modification we signed clearly states the process they are to adhere to should we be found in breech of our Loan Modification. They did none of that. I hope to make them pay for that mistake.
Wish us luck,
Pamela
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