When Randy and I both saw an opportunity to make money on our home on Jason Loop, I knew it was a great investment opportunity for us, but it didn't make it any easier to move. Truly, that home was my favorite of any we'd ever owned. It was our safe haven against the storms of cancer care. It was the blessed reunion of my family after we'd been separated from them for 3 weeks of the four for months. It was where we came together to play, eat, laugh, and love together between bouts of horrible suffering. It was my heaven on earth. In the space of just a few days, we found the home we wanted to buy from a friend, had contracts signed, and moved out. I cried for an entire month after we left.
While Alan, our property manager, was looking for potential renters, one couple stood out to us all. They didn't have the best credit scores, but they'd written us a letter, begging us to read it, asking for us to consider them after all of the hardships they'd endured over the past few years. Tammy told us of an illness that had drained all of their resources, yet through it all they'd paid off both of their car payments and had gotten themselves out of debt. We later found out that she'd had breast cancer. She ended her letter with promises that they'd treat our home like it was their own. We'd come to find out that we do not, under any circumstances, treat our homes the same way.
Our first "run-in" with this couple was when a friend said she'd seen dogs. That home was rented as a pet-free, smoke-free home. There was also some confusion about some extra cars and people that had been seen staying. Alan set up an appointment for us to walk through the home. We arrived to find the man there, super happy and inviting. The house had been decorated super cute, everything looked great, but they did have a woman living with them that had "fallen on hard time," that had two dogs. Alan was furious. He forcibly told them that that was against policy, that the reason we do background checks is not just for the people that want to rent, but for every single person living in the home. He told them that they were in violation of not only that, but that they hadn't even consulted us about pets. They were made to sign a new addendum about the dogs and pay a deposit for the animals. I wasn't thrilled, but there wasn't really anything that we could do.
A few months later, while driving behind the home, I noticed that they'd constructed a fire pit in the center of the grass area out of some sort of decorative brick. I was truly speechless. 1) that yard isn't big, like at all, so I couldn't understand how they thought they could have something in back that big, and 2) in the center of the grass without asking? What. The. Heck!
Lastly, about six months ago, we caught the man smoking in the garage. We immediately called Alan. That was the absolute worst thing they could do! He demanded that he stop. You better believe I drove by the house more, always sneaking up on the house, trying to catch him. I did, a few times. I told Randy that I didn't care if they begged us again, I wanted them out when the contract was over. Turns out, I didn't matter. They'd separated, she'd been gone for a while, he wanted Alan to help him find a smaller rental. Needless to say, once Alan saw the state of our home, he told him that he wouldn't help him again.
We arrived in the home on April 1st, the day after he was contractually obligated to vacate. Upon entering, you were slammed with the scent of urine. Strong urine. As you looked down the long hallway, all you noticed was carpet dotted with blackness, and urine along the tops of all baseboards. My mind couldn't compute it, I was in shock. On the far wall from the front door, a large gash looked like he'd taken a bat to the walls. It kept getting worse. Suffice it to say, 7 doors needed to be replaced, with the worst one being the Master Bedroom door that had been punched through both sides. Because of all of the holes, and I mean HOLES, we needed to paint the entire house again. The carpet cleaner called in said the carpet needed to be replaced throughout the entire home. Not only had the dog used the carpet and baseboards downstairs, it had used them all upstairs as well. Special sprays for the wood and baseboards once the carpet had been removed were used to eliminate the actual urine residue. The house was a wreck.
As I walked through each room, memories flooding my mind, I cried at what hate and disgust and neglect it had been through since we walked through more than 18 months before. One room, Caden's last room, had actual smoke blackened walls. As I walked around, loving the home so much, I actually considered moving back into it, so it could be loved again, as if it had feelings. The sad truth is that we'd actually fit better now. It wouldn't be the same love and happiness, because Caden is gone, but that home would be filled with love just the same.
In a small sense, I can kind of understand the holes in the walls and doors. In the heat of an argument, he lost it and bashed things. I don't condone it, but I can see that it could happen, how he could feel remorse once the heat of the moment dispelled. But the pee that covered the floors and baseboards was a daily allowance. They allowed it to happen again, and again, and again, day after day, for months, maybe even years. That, I cannot understand. How can you do that to a home that isn't yours? How can you say, "We'll treat that home as if it was our own," and think that that is how others actually live?! It disgusts me.
I was happy to see that he'd removed the stupid bricks from the fire pit, not surprised to see a massive circle of dirt and ash. We'll lay down seed after we give the lawn some tender loving, and hopefully get it back to the green beauty where we used to play duck, duck, goose, and tag as a family. And then we walked behind the fence to see he'd just piled them along the fence line... We get the awesome job of dumping those bricks. Awesome.
It is now almost two weeks later. We've lovingly trimmed, raked, mowed, and taken care of the rock flower bed in the front, with plans to do the back soon. I've missed taking care of that tiny yard. I've swept that front porch and wiped down the storm door, all things that I made sure looked great. The house has been painted, with the painters coming back to prime the garage. No matter what we've done, we can't get the overwhelming scent of smoke out of there. Once they prime it, we'll see if we need to remove the liners we installed while living there that insulate the garage door. I imagine we'll have to remove them, but Randy isn't so sure. We'll see. Carpet and doors have been ordered, we're hoping to have them all installed before May. A cleaning service came in and cleaned everything. Once the carpet is laid, I'll go in and sweep and mop one last time, as well as wipe everything down from the dust of construction. I'll love every minute of that cleaning, now that the deep cleaning of their filth has been removed. I'll go through every room, now perfected and ready for new renters, and give it the love it deserves. I'll cry tears of gratitude this time, knowing the home is once again at its best.
Although it hurt so much to see it so trashed, I cannot imagine selling the home. It will have renters again, maybe even renters that treat it the way these people did. However, over the past two weeks, I've seen it transformed once again. I know that no matter what is done, we'll be able to bring it back to what it should be. We'll just have to spend our own money to get it there. The deposit they will not get back only covers the cost of the grass seed and maybe the cost of the cleaning crew-- carpet, paint, doors, the additional garage care, and the dump fee of those fire pit bricks comes out of our pocket. We may or may not take them to collections, understanding that we may never get money back, but it would show on their credit, making it harder for them to rent a home from anyone else for a long time. No one should have to go through this, especially when the home means as much to them as ours means to us.
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