My sister, brother, and I are refinancing our beach house so that we can pay Mom off in one lump sum, thus providing her with the funds she needs to stay in
prison her ritzy assisted living apartment. See, Mom holds the mortgage, so we make the payment to her rather than to a mortgage company or bank. We decided to ask only for an amount equal to the balance remaining on the loan, which is pretty small compared to the increased value of the house. In fact, the LTV (loan-to-value ratio for you non-housing finance types) is only 14%!
So we applied online, and the loan officer phoned each of us up with all of the embarrassing questions that loan officers always ask, and that was that.
Monday's mail brought to me a whole slew of paperwork to take of, including a conditional loan approval. There are disclosures to sign, and good faith estimates to mull over, and a fair amount of
fiery hoops conditions that we have to jump through satisfy before we can call the loan approved and close the sucker.
And it's all due by October 21. That would be Sunday. This Sunday.
I stopped at Mom's old house yesterday evening to pick up her mail and leave my brother a note about the documents. Just as I was writing the note, he walked in the door. I said hello, and after he climbed back into his skin, we talked about the stuff we needed to do. Turns out he was leaving for Puerto Rico this morning, so I ran out to the car and got the paperwork for him to sign right then and there.
Naturally I forgot to get the name of the homeowner's insurance agent from him, which I need because we have to provide a copy of the hazard insurance policy and it looks like we have to get a flood insurance policy.
Luckily his cell works in Puerto Rico (my heart's devotion! let it sink down in the ocean!), so I called and got the agent's name. Tomorrow I'll get the agent to fax me a copy of the hazard policy and sell me a horrendously expensive flood policy. Beach property and all that, you know.
The more immediate problem is that we have to "provide documentation to evidence the following obligation is not the responsibility of the applicant: AMEX account number: blahbidiblahblahblah."
None of us has an AMEX card with that number - we think it might be my brother's oldest son, who shares his first name. Okay, no worries. I'll just call him up and ask if it's his, and then ask him to email me and say that it's his and not his dad's and voila! Loan approved!
Except his voicemail tells me he's on vacation with no cell or email access until October 22.
I finally got through to a loan officer (not the loan officer, but a loan officer) and explained the sitch, and she gave us an extension.
Oy. Maybe it's just me; maybe it's Mercury in retrograde, but it just seems like everything is so hard lately. I mean, couldn't the bank have seen our online application and just personally delivered the cash to our door?
Oh right - the bubble burst.