Monday, February 16, 2009

The Difference Between A House And A Home

I alluded to this the other day, but haven't yet gotten into it. I'm a little concerned that I'm going to have some major issues right around the time I'm officially moved out of the old house, probably when I leave it for the last time and have to give up the keys.

No matter how badly I wanted a bigger house, no matter how badly this place has been getting on my nerves over the last few years, there's one serious issue about it that makes it really hard. My dad did so much around this house for me. As I told the Dread Reverend, I can't look at any part of this house or yard without seeing my dad's fingerprints all over it.

He painted my living room. He had new carpet put in the two bedrooms. He had the kitchen floor put in. Though I designed and paid for the bathroom remodel, it was someone he knew who did the work, and he was here while the guy did the job (because I had to be at work).

He had my upstairs fixed up, having carpet put down, the ceiling fixed and fluorescent lights put in. He had new stairs built to the upstairs.

Outside is even worse. He did everything out there for many years after I moved in. He had my beautiful deck built. He planted most everything that's planted around the place, the shrubs and ground covers and ivy. He built and put up the fence down one side of the yard. He built the lattice 'wall' on the side of the porch, and the gate.

That is difficult to leave. I know the new house is the right thing to do ... it's a better house for us, more room, more things we really wanted and needed (a basement, fireplaces, etc.). I can't stay in the same little house my whole life just because my dad did things to it to fix it up for me. And, maybe most important of all, my dad didn't want me to stay here. He told me many, many times that he wanted me to have a better house, that this place "really wasn't very nice" - he wasn't being critical, he just meant he wanted me to have a better place to live. That's why he wanted me to take his house, although I opted not to, because it wasn't really the house we wanted, and there were too many things about it I didn't like or didn't suit our needs. But the point was, he wanted me to have a better place, and I'm sure he'd like the new house.

My boss was very critical when we had that go-around about the house that week, when they showed up with a real estate agent the same day I finally got the buyer to keep his word and agree to buy it. I felt as if I was being evicted, and I wigged out about it. Initially he was not sympathetic, saying he'd lived in so many different places that to him a house was just sticks and wood. Later he finally understood what I meant ... it's more than that. At least he understood that's how I felt, even if he'd never had the same experience. When you've lived in some place for 14 1/2 years (the only place in my life I've lived in longer was the house I grew up in, and that was only about 15 1/2 years), when you have roots and history there, it's different. It's not just sticks and wood anymore. It's sticks and wood with a rich patina of history, of happenings, of ... to borrow an over-used cliche, the very fabric of my life has been woven through the sticks and wood of this house for a very long time. You can't be ripped forcibly from that without doing serious damage.

But it can be done, as long as it's done gently, and I am sure it'll all work out great in the end. It just has to take some time.

And the good news is, there's plenty about the new house to love, so I don't think it's going to be an unbearable transition. It is a trade-off, but it's also a trade up. I get some of the things that were most important to me, that I couldn't get here ... fireplaces (yes, that really was that big a deal to me! I rejected perfectly good houses because they didn't have fireplaces), plenty of space for our hobbies (I can get creative again!), plenty of room (we can get rid of the storage unit and have valuable things I own out where I can see and enjoy them instead of an unheated garage someplace), and not feel like we're living in an efficiency apartment, but a house for a change.

It'll all be good. It'll take some time to adjust, but it'll all be good.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Congrats, hon, it is good to hear, or read, that things are still going in the right direction.

As far as how you feel about leaving the old place, it is understandable, especially with the memories and all that your dad helped out with.

One idea I can offer, take some clippings of the hardier ground cover, especially the ivy, put them in a glass with water and a little plant food and let them root, then plant them in with what you have planned for the new place. That way, there is still something of what your dad did that will be with you at the new place too.

Its not actually an original idea of mine, we did much the same thing when my dad's mother passed away and her house had to be sold. What special plants he already did not have at his house, he made sure to take and root so as to have those still with the family. There is the sentimental end of that, and in his case a few of those cuttings were plants she had started many years back as seeds she had brought from Australia, so it was things not easy to get and especially so because after so many years they had adapted to the climate. Yes, you can still find the same plants, but they would not be adapted to the climate and may not make it too many seasons.

Anyhows....its an idea. Not sure how easy it would be, and this is not the best season to do that, but if the ivy is as tenasious as the stuff I transplanted from my dad's place (which yes, was one of the plants at his mother's) then it should do quite well no matter what the season.

Rhys