I closed on my childhood home today. My family had lived there for nearly 40 years, and when I moved my dad into assisted living after he broke his leg almost two years ago, it was time to let it go. 2 years, you say?
Ha, I’m guessing you haven’t been down this road before. It took about six months to get Dad into his permanent assisted living home. Then it took another six months (not joking) to clear out the house, fix a few things, and list it. Then in the midst of everything, the furnace kicked off, a pipe froze and burst, and the house flooded. We’re talking FLOODED. No kitchen, dining room, 2 bedrooms trashed, hallway, foyer, basement, den. Nasty. Down to the studs nasty. Then there was the insurance company. The contractor. The designer (I’m not spending my Saturdays picking out tile for someone else’s house!). The subs. The lawyers. And in the midst of it all, a delightful buyer who saw the potential to rebuild it as their own.
So today I said goodbye. Goodbye to the house where I dressed for my wedding day, where we buried the family dog(s), where my parents argued & hugged & had sex (ugh – I heard them one night), where I had my first real kiss. Where my sisters and I watched Dallas and Falcon Crest under a blanket and ate popcorn. Where we had the endless reception with ridiculous numbers of fruit baskets after my mom’s funeral. Where DH and I conceived our second son 🙂 Where I brought home boyfriends, and necked on my parents’ couch. It’s weird to think of a place as having the traits of a person, of deserving love but gosh I loved that house. DH and I toyed with buying it, but it’s not OUR house, and we love our home. Happy, sad, everything in between. Crying, purging, cutting, hurting, grieving, laughing, loving, losing, aching, rejoicing, celebrating. I’ve never felt closer to people in my life, and I’ve never felt more isolated.
Goodbye house. You were a delightful place to grow up.