641 The Good-bye Letter

We were surprised to see our former home for sale again--50% more than we sold it for just three years ago. We don't know why they are selling--I hope it is for happy reasons like a new job, and not for something unhappy like debt or divorce. I couldn't resist going on line at the Realtor's site and snooping through the rooms. Oh my--the pink stripe and floral wallpaper is still in my daughter's bedroom. That junior high age boy must not be happy about that even with the red football bed spread. The new kitchen is wow-worthy, but too bad they got rid of the formal dining room to do it. In blog 640 I wrote about Christmas letters. The Christmas of 2001, I wrote a letter about the house, called "Good-bye Old Friend," which I repeat here.

Yes, I know. We were going to be faithful to the end. But we can’t say a relationship of 34 years was exactly a failure, now, can we? I saw you the first time in January 1968--it seems like it was New Year’s Day, but who would have an “open house by owner” on a holiday? Anyway, it was in a cold January snow storm. We must have been the first people through, and then we went home to our apartment on Farleigh Road to discuss it. We were both so excited. Even then, we knew if we both liked something we should grab it because we almost never were able to compromise--one or the other had to give in.

You were more fabulous than we had ever expected--3 bedrooms, a bath and a half, a kitchen with eating space, dining room, big living room with fireplace, and a cute little den with a walk-out deck as its roof. Your redwood siding was painted white and big black shutters guarded every window. Heavy wood storm windows hung on every window. Just about everything inside was white too except the dining room which had wild blue and green and white flowers. Not as white as it looked, however. They had freshened the paint only up to their furniture--huge antiques.

In spite of the weather, we could see that the street was gorgeous with huge 30 year old trees. Even without leaves, the street announced it would be lush in the summer. There was a creek at the end of the street and stately, well designed, more expensive homes all around. You were about my age--28--and that seemed an “old” house, yet newer than the ones we’d owned on White Street and Charles Street in Champaign, Illinois. I wasn’t sure about a standing seam metal roof, but my husband said they were wonderful, and shouldn’t an architect know? He didn’t notice that one had to walk through the laundry room and bathroom to get to the den. “I can’t believe that,” he said when we were back at the apartment and I was pointing out some minor flaws. “I surely would’ve noticed that.” But I was right, and it was our love at first sight that blinded us to your shortcomings (fixable as we learned).

The owners had just replaced the furnace in December. We knew that the only reason you were affordable was the lack of a basement--but our previous homes’ basements weren’t too great. White Street had a partial dirt floor--and a slab seemed an improvement over that! We made an offer and it was accepted--the sellers even had to pay us a little rent because we wanted it before they were ready to go.

You see, we were in a hurry because of the baby. A friend (who just died this year) came by to baby sit on Farleigh while we went to the closing. You seemed to like the baby--she almost never cried in the bright southeast bedroom where we put her green crib and dresser and the extra double bed. In fact, we used to wake her up when people came to visit because she slept about 20 out of 24 hours. Then in a year, February 1969, there was another baby for the northeast bedroom, and the house was never quiet again for 18 years.

Yes, we did almost split up a few times, like in 1977 and 1987 and 1994. I went through a stage of lusting after newer homes and more conservative school districts, and once we came close to buying a new two-story in Dublin. Our daughter's social life in fourth grade wasn’t the greatest, and our son needed a different kind of school. But we decided to stay. Did you know I used to sneak out to open houses regularly on Sundays? Once the kids were in high school, it was really too late to move. Instead, we remodeled the kitchen in 1978 and the bathrooms in 1980 and added a family room. That stopped the itchy foot for awhile.

But in 1986 the family split up. Like me, you may have felt abandoned by the children. I had empty nest syndrome big time, so I thought I’d move away--if you can‘t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I looked through the real estate ads, even some places in the country. I wanted something different; something with no memories; something NOT home. Then in 1988 we bought our cottage on Lake Erie and were busy fixing it up and falling in love. Perhaps you felt doubly abandoned--all we could talk about was our cutesy, cutesy new love.

After the big blow-out 1993 wedding parties here on your new brick patio and all freshened with new paint and wall paper and wonderful new big closets, you were probably surprised to hear me once again talk of moving in 1994--and to a condo no less. We covered you up with vinyl siding, preserving the trim for authenticity. The art studio added in the early 70s became temporarily an office when my husband left the down town firm in 1994.

In 1995 we had just converted the family room built in ’79 to a big wonderful office, and probably you thought we were set until his retirement. He dutifully went over to Mill Run to look at the new builds and promptly noted that he didn’t want to live in the kitchen (called a great room in modern real estate speak). We continued to look off and on, but usually couldn’t get any agents to take us seriously.

After I retired in 2000, I decided you were just the perfect house, after all. Something I hadn’t said the previous 33 years. You had location, location, location, and for retirees, it turns out that is pretty good stuff for people who don’t enjoy spending their waking hours behind the wheel of a car. For two years our names had been on a Lane Woods condo, a mile from here, in the site of a former gravel pit, now hoity-toity with new expensive houses. When it came time to sign the dotted line, I couldn’t--price seemed about $100,000 more than when we first signed up. So I refurbished the master bath in 2001.

But one day last summer, almost a fluke, we saw a condo on a beautiful lot, where they still put the mail through the door slot and it is still in our community. We made an offer and then put you up for sale. Now a new young family with three children are as thrilled as we were 34 years ago. You probably won’t even miss us in a heart beat. We had a great final Christmas with the kids here opening presents and laughing and teasing like old times.


Last Christmas in the House

Please be good and don’t leak or creak. It’s OK for your metal roof to sing during rain storms or when the squirrels throw acorns, however. Most people aren’t used to 32 windows, so watch out and don’t blind anyone with the occasional Ohio sun. There will be lots of children playing in the yard now, so please hang on to the grass for awhile, or until the new owner can work his magic. (I hear he is a specialist in weeds, which might be good.)

Always know we love you and will have fond memories.
Love, Norma