When I Move There It Will Be The Right Side

What an eye opening experience today.   We went in to someone else’s home and scrutinized it to see if it could be our home.

No.

It could not.

It was little.  That was not a problem.  There were hard wood floors which is a bonus.  There were tons of antiques.  But tons of “stuff” as well.  The house was too small for all of the ‘stuff’ in it.  And I did scrutinize it.   I took everything out of the house that was in it and tried to put me and David in it.  I just could not do it.  The realtor kept telling me to do it.  Which I found to be kind of bossy of her.  But I could not do it.  I kept telling myself “I want to go home”.  And that house was not it.  But it was someone else’s home and I respect that.  You could tell they had been there so long that some things probably did not scream out at them “FIX ME”.   But they did to me.  The rotting wood under the side door.  The plywood “patch” in the hardwood floor.   The dripping sink.  The hole someone had cut in a wall to make a walk way through to the kitchen.  This transformed a once very tiny bedroom into a now tiny dining room.  Problem was, they never finished “the hole”.   Nor did they do anything about the gaping hole that was the closet other than put in some shelves and fill it.

I didn’t like the house.  But I liked the people living there.  I didn’t meet them.  But I kind of glimpsed them.  The antiques and collectibles were fascinating.  They had books every where so how could I not love them?  And when I first glanced in to the ‘dining room’ there was a pseudo re-creation of my grandparents kitchen.   A table, and above it  a framed print of a white bearded man, his head resting on his praying hands, bent over a  bowl of soup and chunk of bread.   And I remembered that man does not live on bread alone.  I may not have loved their house, but I respected their home.

We had to listen to the realtor lady talk for fifteen minutes about herself.  Which really frustrated me.  I was getting hot, David told me when we got in the car he was hot.  And I already knew it was not our home.   I wanted to leave.  I felt I should not linger there.  When we got home we went back to the computer.   I knew if we looked on the “wrong side of town” we would get more house for the money we want to spend.  And for the very reason I don’t want to look in those neighborhoods, those neighborhoods will never revitalize.  I was stunned to find beautiful, old and new, homes at the same price we were looking at on “the other end”.  And we found homes with clean and fresh interiors.  Wood floors that were shiny and without patches.  Space.  Yard.  I opened one home’s photo album and made David call.  We’re going to see it tomorrow.

I might start looking on the other side of the tracks.   And then, it will be the right side.  And the house we will see tomorrow is empty.  The owners already moved out.  So I don’t have to scrutinize someone’s home.  I can go see this house.   And see if I can picture me in it.