My 55th Blog: Selling the Past, Finding Home (and Keeping Migo)

 

Months before my brother passed away, I found myself asking my sisters the question I had been avoiding: What would we do if the inevitable happened? I had noticed my brother’s persistent cough, the way he winced at pains in his legs, knees, and arms. Something about it felt off—ominous, even. I tried to push the thought away, telling myself, “It’s probably nothing… just a phase.” But deep down, I knew better. And yet, as life has a way of reminding us, what’s done is done.

 

Now that my brother is gone, it’s just me and my niece living in our ancestral home in Wilson. My sisters eventually brought up the possibility of selling the property. I felt bad, of course, but deep down, I knew it was coming.

 

So, I started searching for a condo. And let me tell you—it was not easy. With the current prices and options, it felt like trying to find a needle in a haystack… a haystack made of overpriced, pet-unfriendly condos. Some of the places I liked had a strict “no pets” policy. There was no way I was abandoning Migo, my Shih Tzu—he’s basically my life support at this point.

Finally, I found some pet-friendly options. The most affordable one? A DMCI condo. Bonus points: it’s from the developer of a distant relative. The catch? Our family side isn’t exactly famous. So, yeah… small world, small family fame, big relief. LOL.

 

I found one, though I’m keeping the exact location under wraps. It’s conveniently close to where we are now. The building is relatively old (built in 2015), but with a developer this reliable, I’m not losing sleep over it. Honestly, this condo might even outlast me—fortunately, it seems better at standing the test of time than I am at remembering where I put my keys. LOL.

 

There’s one little challenge, though—the unit is under the name of a corporation. So my broker, who just so happens to be one of my sisters, will have to go through all the paperwork: board resolutions, secretary certificates, and whatever other documents lawyers hide in dusty drawers. It might take a bit longer to have the title transferred to my name after I’ve fully paid for it.

 

But here’s the thing: I genuinely like the person I spoke with, I love the unit, and I appreciate how well she’s maintained its cleanliness. It’s a 54-square-meter unit that’s been recently renovated. In short, I’m happy.

Of course, happiness aside, I still need to do my due diligence. This is going to be my next—and probably last—home before I kick the bucket. LOL. So it really had better be the right one. Fingers crossed, toes crossed, maybe even Migo’s paws crossed too.

 

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about a roof over my head—it’s about finding a place where memories can be honored, life can continue, and the little joys (like Migo’s snoring at my feet) can still make me smile. That, I think, is worth every careful step of the journey.