Perhaps it’s because I have time to think. Perhaps it’s the 40th anniversary of my dad’s death or the nearing of his 100th birthday. Perhaps it’s because I’m spending a lot of time at home. Whatever the reason, I have been waxing nostalgic about my home, where I live and the life I have made for myself in that home. I have lived in very few houses, and I have lived in my current house for nearly 30 years, being only 30 miles from my childhood home.
I’ve never lived in any fancy houses, nor new houses for that matter. There has been one apartment (which was larger and nicer than some houses), and one tiny, miniscule condominium. The house in which I grew up was built by my dad, but I came along 6 years after it was finished. The simple farmhouse sat in the middle of a cotton patch, miles from the city and far from neighbors. The house in which I currently live was also 6 years old when we moved in. It is a very small, simple, 70s tract house, and although we have lived here for so many years, the house is almost the same as the day we moved in.
God has been very good to us, blessing us with a comfortable place to live, and providing us a place that has needed few repairs and modifications. Much of the house is original, and since everything keeps working and doing what we need, I have no burning desire to change things. We have some friends who bought their home 6 or 7 years before us, in an older neighborhood, and they were constantly remodeling, changing, and reworking the property. It seemed that when they finished one project, they immediately set about to find something new to change. Their final project, a major kitchen overhaul, was very impressive, but then, to everyone’s surprise, after 36 years, they sold the house and moved to a condominium.
I don’t know how much longer we will stay in this house. It is comfortable for just the two of us, and although we have yards, they are pretty easy to maintain. This is one my favorite places in the house, especially during the summer, when temperatures reach over 100.
Wherever we go next, though, I’m sure will be a nice home, too. Because I’ve learned something along the way: you take your home with you to whatever house you move to through the life you live.
5 responses so far ↓
Kathy // July 4, 2008 at 1:30 pm |
When I got married we moved into the house that hubby lived in. (His father was recently deceased, and his mother had to leave town to care for HER ailing mother). It was a house with lots of character, but it was in an iffy school district.
After several years (with one baby) we moved farther west in the metropolitan St. Louis area. We stayed in that house for five years (and two more babies) before we outgrew it and moved to our current house.
Now that all the kids have gone, the house is probably too big, and we’re investigating options for the future. I agree with you that “you take your home with you to whatever house you move to through the life you live.”
dkzody // July 4, 2008 at 5:39 pm |
We are thinking of a small apartment in SF as our next place. Although this house is small, that would be even tinier and we would definitely have to rethink some of our “stuff.”
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