*This post has nothing to do with Real Estate but I hope you’ll grant me a minute to share.
Today is the second anniversary of my father’s death. Somehow the date snuck up on me, again, and punched me in the gut. I thought I’d take a minute to say hello to him if you don’t mind.
My Dad was a Realtor. He was a Realtor when the real-a-tor stereotype was more truth than fiction. When wood paneling, bad leisure suits, fancy fake plants, a ‘fax’ machine (oooohhh), fast talking and knowledge about how to put a deal together with 20% APR interest rates were all equally critical. He worked long hours, wined and dined the Mayor, schmoozed with the best of ‘em and drove a fancy car never more than a year old. He was the epitome of real estate in the 1970’s-80’s.
But, as any kid knows, the last thing you want to be is a foregone conclusion. I took one look at that wood paneling and swore that I’d never, ever, ever, be in Real Estate. Then twelve years of executive-level work in every other direction led me resolutely, unquestionably to… Real Estate.
How’d that happen?
Ironically, I’d barely gotten my feet wet in this industry when he passed. He didn’t get to see me building a successful team or putting the structure in place for a business that would put integrity above profits. Every time I find myself at the closing table, sitting next to clients who are excited at the huge step they are taking and elated that it has, finally, come true for them, I take a second to say ‘okay, Dad, I get it’. I love what I do, even when I occasionally hate it. The role I play is important, infuriating and everything that I was meant to be and to do.
So, foregone conclusion or not, thank you, Dad, for showing me how it’s done.
I hope that I make you proud.
I love you.