We Tell All, Bother Many, and I get a HUGE Surprise

The mortgage broker needed all our financial information - where we work and for how long, what we have in the bank, any investments, every penny that comes in and goes out. With copies of all financial statements, pay stubs, and any other piece of paper within reach. That was the less intrusive requirement.

Aaaah, the famed and legendary Co-Op application. No, not in triplicate. In quintuplicate. Financials, personal info, five reference letters for each of us (we did some deep thinking on who to bother to write on our behalf, and still owe those 10 favors), mortgage commitment info, and letters from our workplaces reiterating salaries and how long we've been there, etc. Once again, the Barron Team helped us out by letting us fill out the application pages longhand and having Jennifer amass all the papers, type the information neatly in the usually-too-small boxes, lines and spaces provided, and make the requisite five copies.

We put in our bid which was accepted by the seller in April. It took several weeks to get the mortgage underway and the Board Package prepared. When that was submitted, we settled in for the wait for an appointment to be Interviewed by the Board (what to wear? what to say? more important, what NOT to say???).

We got our interview date for early June.

.....were you waiting for the surprise mentioned in the title? I wasn't, hence the surprise.....

Hunter College High School's Alumna/i/ae (we were an all-girls school, and then there were boys, and plural) Association contacted graduates to be part of a directory. Hmmm - don't know if my address is about to change, but perhaps if anybody contacts me (please do if you're a HCHS alum!) it will get forwarded. And Margaret (now Marge), my friend and classmate who now administers Alum matters, was compiling a collection of essays about where we are now and what we've been doing. So I wrote one. It talked about my jobs, and house, the excitement about possibly moving into a Greenwich Village loft apartment, and my wonderful beau, Jay.

I read my essay to Jay that weekend - it was Memorial Day weekend, 2004. Then he said that on such a beautiful day, we should sit outside on my porch swing (a favorite feature of my house). And then, on that lovely Spring day, he told me that my essay may be incorrect. I had called him my beau. At that moment asked me to marry him. Yup - change beau to fiance!

We were calm and cool about this. Except I realized a few minutes that my eyes had leaked, and hands seemed to be shaking a tad. Also very impressive: the ring fit perfectly. Ummm, how? On one of our train rides from Long Island into The Island of Open Houses, he had jokingly put his hand under mine and commented about how small my hand was compared to his. The secret agenda was that eyeballed measurements were taking place - he measured his own finger and subtracted for the difference he had seen on the train ride. I remain impressed.

So now we're engaged, and ready for life to get a bit more interesting....