Have owned two homes that I loved very much and had to move on from them. Now we are relocating (I hope) to a new home in a new state. Probably for the last time (I hope). Good luck in your new home.
Great post!
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I’ve either been blessed or cursed with an utter lack of introspection.
We’ve had three houses over the past 31 years.
31st anniversary is next Thursday but I will be gone on a business trip. Celebrating tonight)
Whenever we move out, it’s just an opportunity to move on.
None of the homes had any real character, especially the one we’re in now. It’s really just a house.
Best memories was probably the last one. We had to move when I lost my job during the Michigan depression and had to move out of state. Lost our shirts but managed to sell it.
Great story - makes me think of the many houses I have seen/been in that make me say “I wish these walls could talk”...
A song for you.....
The House That Built Me
Miranda Lambert
I know they say you can’t go home again.
I just had to come back one last time.
Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam.
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.
Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
And I bet you didn’t know, under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it’s like I’m someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave.
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me.
Mama cut out pictures of houses for years.
From ‘Better Homes and Garden’ magazines.
Plans were drawn, and concrete poured,
And nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it’s like I’m someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave.
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me.
You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it’s like I’m someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could walk around I swear I’ll leave.
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that, built me.
Songwriters: Allen Shamblin / Tom Douglas
My wife and I bought our home in 1983. We raised our family there. We moved out in 2016 after 33 wonderful years. We still own the house, but it is now a rental. But Oh! The wonderful memories and stories I could tell you.
But I’ll just tell you this recurring dream I have. I dream that our family is back in that house. We are in the dining room or the living room or wherever. And all of a sudden I start to panic. I realize we don’t live here anymore and the tenants will soon come in and catch us in their house and so we must get out! Quick!
~end of dream~
This sounds imminently like my story. I bought land (8 1/3 acres), and two days later met a woman who would become my wife, and the mother of my three daughters. 15 years later, I moved out, in the hopes of getting her attention, to “shock” her into communicating with me, talking with me. It didn’t happen, and we’re divorcing now. My youngest has footprints and handprints in the foundation on the back porch corner. My dad moved in when he (shortsightedly) sold his house 7 years ago. Jam, litter mate of Jelly, is buried in the front yard. Manning, my dog from before the wife and kids, is buried under the pecan tree in the front yard. Toby, a cat from before, is buried under the live oak in the back.
We’ve been through a couple of hurricanes, and 3 straight years of floods with no damage. Had the wellhead knocked over by a guy doing some mowing. Even had the septic tanks pumped out. Built a Quonset hut barn. Spent way too much on trees that never got planted, and railroad ties to line the 600 foot driveway that never quite got fully lined.
And, all I want to do is sell the place. I’ll have the memories, but miss the people that made it home for 15 years. I won’t miss the slow decay of my marriage.
To all things there is a season.
Most of the buildings I lived in during my life have been TORN DOWN. What does it mean?
Thanx 4 sharing. Brought tears to these old eyes, remembering similar circumstances.
I know how you feel. I moved from our “home” for 7 generations, NW Florida, to Georgia, last summer. I had never lived anyplace else. It has been traumatic but I am adjusting....you will too.
Best wishes.
Maturity has arrived like a bus at your stop and you have climbed aboard.
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A beautifully written, poignant piece. Thanks for adding some sorely needed quality content to FR.
I understand what y’all say. My family lived in one house from 1919 to when I sold it around 2005. When I revisited Houston, I stayed at a house across the street and couldn’t look at my old home once I knew the new owners had gutted the inside of a classic Craftsman house and modernized it.
Having said that, when it came up for sale, i wasn’t tempted. In fact when I returned to Texas from California I chose Dallas, not Houston. You can’t go home again.
I am 71 and have lived in 23 different places. My childhood home was torn down.
I appreciate your memories. Not everyone has them