I Used to Love Getting the Mail

I used to love getting the mail.

There was something comforting about it—ritualistic, almost. A few bills, maybe a magazine, the occasional birthday card. I’d open everything right away. I liked staying on top of things.

Then one day, I stopped checking the mailbox.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. More like a quiet shift. I started letting things pile up. Ignoring envelopes I didn’t recognize. Setting unopened mail on the counter and walking away.

Because I knew what was inside.

And I couldn’t face it.

We were four months behind on our mortgage. I’d been laid off from my job in sales and couldn’t find something steady. My wife picked up hours at the grocery store, but it wasn’t enough. The savings we had evaporated faster than I expected. And soon, we were prioritizing food and electricity over the mortgage.

It’s amazing how fast it happens.

You go from managing everything… to barely keeping up… to drowning.

I didn’t want to admit how bad it had gotten. Not even to my wife. We still smiled at the neighbors. Still took walks around the block. But at night, we sat in silence more often than not.

When the foreclosure letter came, I opened it alone. I sat on the back porch, read every word, and felt like I was outside my own body.

The word foreclosure didn’t even look real.

I spent the next week trying to figure things out on my own. Googling terms I didn’t understand. Calling the mortgage company only to be transferred in circles. One rep told me to wait for a packet. Another said I was already in default. It felt like a game with rules no one wanted to explain.

I was angry. Not just at the system, but at myself. I had always prided myself on being prepared—for budgeting, for saving, for providing.

But no one prepares you for losing control.

I found an article one night—someone sharing their foreclosure story. Their situation felt eerily similar to mine. And in the middle of their post, they mentioned a man named David Litt with 4Closure Rescue. They said:

“He didn’t try to sell me anything. He just helped me see clearly when everything else felt confusing.”

I saved the number: 224-344-5700.

I didn’t call right away. I kept telling myself I should be able to fix this alone.

But eventually, I called.

David picked up the phone himself.

The first thing he said was, “Take your time. I’m here to listen.”

I told him everything—the job loss, the missed payments, the letters piling up. I expected judgment. What I got was patience.

He explained the foreclosure process in plain English. He told me what deadlines were critical and what options were still available. He helped me pull together the documents I needed for a modification and coached me through calling the lender again—with confidence and clarity.

More than anything, he gave me the sense that I wasn’t powerless.

And it worked.

We submitted a full package. Got into a trial period. And ultimately, the foreclosure was called off.

I check the mail again now.

And every time I do, I remember how close we came to losing everything. Not just a house—but the peace that comes with knowing you have a place to call home.

If you're where I was—sitting on the porch, holding a letter that makes your stomach drop—please know there’s still a path forward.

📞 Call David Litt at 4Closure Rescue: 224-344-5700

Sometimes all you need is one conversation to change the story you’re in.