Well, today was quite an interesting day, to put it mildly. All started out well with me getting to my lawyer’s office first to prepare me for the “prove up,” as these things are called. We proceeded to court and my sister was there to meet me and give me much-needed support.
The process itself was not too bad. I was glad the judge had a box of tissues available as I did cry a bit, but I was able to answer the questions put to me and all was duly recorded. Afterwards, I had a few minutes to sit with my sister and cry on her shoulder while the lawyer recorded the process with the clerk in the courtroom and the judge moved right on into her next case.
After a stop at another floor where we got a certified copy of the final document, we left the building and I went back to my lawyer’s office to retrieve some things I’d left there. Knitting needles are not allowed in court, so I had to leave my commuting knitting at her office. Luckily my lawyer is a knitter so she was more than happy to accomodate my request to do so.
I left her office with everything I needed for the close of my refinancing, which was scheduled for the afternoon. This was where things got weird.
In between, I did have a bit of leisure time in which I met up with Jamie to have lunch, and then a brief stop at Argo Tea. As I left Jamie at Argo, I noted that I’d likely be back in an hour and we could then spend the rest of the afternoon window shopping or knitting, or even both. Wrong. So wrong.
If anyone reading this has ever closed on a real estate deal, you know that something unexpected *always* seems to pop up. Or maybe that’s just for me. This was my third closing process, and in each and every one something happened that seemed to appear totally out of left field.
There were a few unexpected things that happened during the close today, but I think the biggest, most amazing crazy-ass sounding of them all was the fact that the title company insisted that they needed more than the signed and notarized Quit Claim Deed and the certified divorce agreement to complete the close. They needed a document signed by Mark stating that his conditions were satisfied by providing the signed Quit Claim Deed.
This until today unheard of document has no official name, nor does it have to take any specific format or be notarized. It just has to be a piece of paper with his signature on it stating that, in general, he’s OK with giving up the house.
I asked the underwriter to please explain this to me. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. There were 2 legal documents in front of her that were both very official, yet she wanted a third, wholly unofficial document with some general sort of phrasing on it before this deal could close. I just didn’t get it. My mortgage broker, who was sittting with me, was confused and had never heard of this. My lawyer, who was called immediately and asked about it, said she had never heard of this. We were all stunned.
But the underwriter wouldn’t budge and said it was required by the title company. So, I asked: if I could get Mark to stop by and agree to sign the document, would she put it together in such a way to satisfy her requirement. Yes, she would.
Luckily, Mark agreed to do so as soon as he finished a meeting, and roughly an hour later he showed up to sign the damn paper. Which was basically two sentences on a piece of plain, white copier paper.
So, I was able to complete the close today after 2 1/2 hours of wrangling and signing.
As I said, it seems that every time I’ve been involved in a close, something bizzare pops up to throw me for a loop. I swear, if I ever have to go through with this again I wouldn’t be surprised to hear the title company demand, “We want…a shrubbery!” as a condition to close.
Getting the divorce completed was a hell of a lot easier. And now I am single again, only this time I am a single person with a six-figure commitment for the next 30-years. It feels pretty good, though.