We all knew that agent.
She drove a manual transmission until her legs said, “No more,” and even then, she gave it a few more years, well into her 70s. 🚗💥 Every gear shift hit the redline like she was trying to summon a NASCAR pit crew. That old Nissan Altima had nearly 280,000 miles, and I swear every one of them was earned in combat. She didn’t drive. She attacked the pavement.
🌿 Landscapers Feared Her, and Rightfully So
She didn’t just have presence, she had atmosphere. The kind that made grown men with weed whackers cross the street. 💨
The landscaper would edge the lawn like he was disarming a bomb. Quiet. Careful. Eyes down. He wouldn’t knock, even if she owed him money. Especially if she owed him money. 😅
She wasn’t mean in a cruel way. She was mean in a “don’t waste my money” kind of way. Efficient. Sharp. Possibly allergic to small talk.
📞 She Called for Advice… Then, Argued for 20 Minutes
She’d call me with a simple real estate question. I’d answer. Then she’d spend the next 20 minutes explaining why I was an idiot.
She’d hang up. Call five other people. Debate them too. Then call me back hours later to say I was right. No apology. Just facts. ✅
And somehow, I always laughed. Because she never meant harm. She just needed to push back first before letting it settle in. That was her process. That was her charm.
🧾 Receipts? She Kept Everything But Her Patience
Her house looked like a file cabinet that exploded. Every offer. Every inspection. Every note scribbled on the back of a napkin was saved and sorted. 📚
She didn’t trust clouds or apps. She trusted paper and a stapler that had been through a few things. Her patience was long gone, but her paperwork? Eternal.
💸 Always Broke, But Never Really
She was always “broke.” Or so she said.
One day, she couldn’t afford lunch. Next, she had a $400 Home Shopping Network haul, which included a steam mop and a glittery panini press. 🛒
The roof? New. AC? New. Water heater? Installed. Dishwasher? From the Clinton era. And when I asked why she replaced things she didn’t need to, she said,
"I don’t want to leave my son a headache."
And just like that, it all made sense. 💡
📱 The Calls I’d Still Take Today
Her calls weren’t conversations. They were events.
You had to stretch, hydrate, and emotionally prepare. But I’d take every single one again.
Because behind the chaos was someone who had your back. Someone who’d fight you, but never leave you. Someone who argued hard and loved harder. ❤️
🕊️ Still On My Call List
If I had the chance to go back, I wouldn’t fix a thing. I’d just tell her I loved her a little more. I’d pick up faster. I’d hug longer. 🤗
She lived big. Drove hard. Filed everything. And left behind more than just a paper trail. She left an imprint.
She’s gone now. But she’s still on my call list.
And she always will be. ❤️📞
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