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This old house

A friend posted on Facebook about going by to see an old childhood home.  It is funny how there is always this draw to visit something tangible from our past. So many memories. After 30 years of being a military family we have lots of "old homes".

My favorite home full of memories is the first house my husband and I bought about a year after we got married. It was an old home in Marquette, MI. This is the only house I have ever walked in and felt as if the house had a soul of  its own. I know I wasn't the only one who felt it. I took a good friend to look at it after we bought it but before we moved in. She walked in the door and was moved to tears.It was definitely charming but there was just something else about that house that I can't quite explain.

It looked like a cottage with a stone facade. The first owner was a home builder who built this one for himself in 1942 so the craftsmanship was amazing. Original polished oak was everywhere-- window frames, an oak mantle over the fireplace, doors, built in shelves--and it was all still beautiful. At some point much of the flooring had been covered by carpet but two bedrooms upstairs still had the hard wood floors. Neither my husband nor I had a lot of experience with home improvement projects but with the confidence of the newly married we refinished those floors. His buddy told him how to do it and said it would be a weekend project. Three or four weekends later we finished. They were beautiful. The memories of that project are happy--a joint effort to build our home. I bought some pretty blue fabric with a tiny floral print and made curtains for our bedroom. Before long, I was pregnant. Now we got to fix up a nursery with pastel yellows and greens. I didn't know if I was having a boy or a girl so we went with non-committal colors. Our first son was born there and before we knew it, another son as well. I felt so blessed in that house.

One day we noticed a man standing on the sidewalk outside our house. Then we realized it was a priest. Our home had been his childhood home. His father had been the homebuilder who built our home. His mother had planted all the perennials we enjoyed every spring. He had many happy memories there.

We went back as well. By this time we had four children. As we drove by the house we saw a moving van. The hospital where I did my residency had bought all the homes on the block and was going to move them or tear them down to make way for the hospital expansion. The current owner let us walk around. It was very much as we left it nearly a decade prior. The oak still gleamed and the blue floral curtains still hung in our bedroom. I am so happy we got to see it one more time before it was gone.

Do you have house memories?

I tried to find an old picture of the house but couldn't quickly lay my hands on one that showed the whole house. I did find some that I thought showed how happy we were in that house.
Showing off my first baby bump.


Thinking I might have a future doctor. Nope. None of my kids went in to medicine. 


Like father like son.
 
Daddy and his boys. 

Comments

Rosemary Bogdan said…
Sounds like a beautiful home! Nice post. The Michigan home I had from the age of 12 until the time I left home, the home that we all returned to for 4 decades was torn down shortly after it was sold, following my father's passing away. There was nothing wrong with it. It was structurally sound. It was just that the land was worth more than the house and someone wanted to build something big on the property. It was sad....

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