The Cape May house is yours. Legally, financially, and morally. I want that stated plainly.
The children will probably think of it as “ours” because we raised them here. That is understandable.
It is also incorrect.
I smiled through my tears.
That was Robert.
Gentle enough to explain.
Precise enough to correct.
The house came from Margaret’s work as much as mine, perhaps more. She sacrificed opportunities I did not have to sacrifice. She used her severance money for the down payment. The deed is in her name for a reason.
If the time comes when this place is more burden than joy, sell it.
If you need money, sell it.
If you want to travel, sell it.
If you fall wildly in love with a retired saxophone player and want to run away to Italy, definitely sell it, but please choose one who can stay on key.
I laughed again, and this time the tears came with it.
