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The family has been much in turmoil for the past six weeks.

The Saturday after Memorial Day we were at my brother's place. My sister and her husband had just arrived (via motorcycle) from California, my niece was getting her graduate degree from MIT, and everything was fine. We had a very nice lunch, wandered around the property to see the new landscaping, and had dessert and coffee on the back deck.

When we were coming in, carrying the plates and cups, my mother slipped and fell, with her face landing on the door sill.

While my sister was getting cold compresses and my SIL was calling the paramedics, and I was getting ice and working out logistics, my brother and niece were helping Mom and my BIL was working on his computer.

The paramedics took Mom to the hospital, with my sister and SIL following, and I drove my BIL to the airport to catch his flight.

They took nine stitches in Mom's face, and for several days her eye was very red. But the eye surgeon said that it was the pooling of blood behind the eye, and it would go away. Eventually it did, and the stitches were removed and her face didn't show any scarring.

But it was frightening. And after much discussion, and consultation, Mom finally agreed to move to an assisted living place. She saw three, and was trying to decide, when it turned out there was an opening at another one that is close to where she lives now, and where she already knows several people.

So she handed over a down-payment, and after the closest thing we've ever had to a family argument her condo was put on the market, and we set a moving date for mid-August. The condo was put on the market (during a housing crash) on July 8th. And every time a real estate agent called Mom had to find some place to go to while the client saw the property.

Someone just made an offer. For the exact amount we had decided to accept. After just a week. Sighs of relief are going up all over.

I'll be going up on Saturday, just for the day, and start packing some of the more delicate items; the ones that she doesn't want the movers to touch.

This won't be fun, and it means wrenching her away from a place she's had for more than twenty years, but we won't have to worry about her every minute. I thought it would take weeks to sell the place. Middle of summer, tight credit market, bad housing market, and everything else. What a relief. What a relief.

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