Living and going to heaven

I was recently asked to provide a personal reference for a friend who’s buying a co-op in New York City. And as I wrote, I thought back to the stress Other and I felt when we bought our own co-op four years ago. No matter how straightforward you think your situation is, it’s always more complicated than co-op boards like to see: news stories abound of mean-spirited boards refusing applicants for ridiculous reasons—or no reason at all. 

As I thought about what to write about my friend, I flipped through the file folder that contained our own closing documents. And I fell upon the letters of reference written for us—all 10 of them. I think the number required by the board was two. But we were insecure, so, well, yeah, 10.

Reading them was like dying and going to heaven—but being conscious and able to hear your own eulogy. Years ago, my father had wanted me to arrange a living memorial service so he could be present to hear what people said about him. I put it off. And then it was too late. Reading my real estate letters was like having the living memorial service my father had wanted. The letters listed our achievements  (Other was a “quite accomplished cook,” I an “outstanding pastry chef”), told flattering anecdotes about us, praised our children (one described our son as “a little boy so bright and sweet, he enchanted all who met him”), enumerated our nicest qualities (our “gusto” and “great sense of humor”). 

The pandemic has canceled the subtle affirmations an in-person social life can bring. It was nice to be reminded—written and signed, no backsies. 

Real estate is like dating, it’s said. Yes, it’s filled with fears of rejection. But it can also really boost your self-esteem!


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