We moved around a lot when I was a kid; my dad grew up in a military family and was then in the military himself. He seemed to get itchy every 2-3 years to pack up boxes and call in the moving van. Twice we moved across town, staying in the same school district, just to move. Well, OK, I’m sure there were very compelling reasons (like a teenage daughter who hogged the one bathroom) but at the time it seemed we were moving for the sake of moving.
So, I had lots of addresses during my childhood. And at various opportunities over the years, I have driven past old houses and apartments, often shocked by how much smaller they are in my adult eyes than in my kid memories. But never until a few days ago did I get a chance to go inside a house I had once called home.
We were down in the Bay Area over the weekend (if you’re a Bay Area friend who didn’t hear from me, please don’t take it personally; we’ll be back). David and Becky were the very nice couple that bought our house from us three years ago and they have kept in touch via email and Christmas cards. In addition to asking various questions about plants and yard care, David and Becky have repeatedly encouraged us to drop by and see the changes they’ve made to our old place. Sunday we finally took them up on their offer.
It wasn’t nearly as strange as I thought it would be to stand on my old porch, stare at my old door, and ring my old doorbell. Perhaps the fact that the house is now a totally different color (looks fantastic) and that my favorite fuchsia and hibiscus no longer greet visitors (so sad) made it seem “not mine” anymore.
We stepped into the house and I absolutely loved it. David and Becky have done some wonderful things, things I wish I had thought of or had been willing to pay for. All that old popcorn on the ceilings is gone. Vertical blinds have been replaced by plantation shutters. Track lights are now recessed. And all the white walls are now wonderfully varying shades of browns and creams and sagey green. Surprisingly, the carpet is still the same. It needed to be replaced when we moved. But, with some intensive care, it looks revitalized.
In so many ways, it didn’t look like my old house yet there were a few reminders of the ten years we took it as ours. It was odd to see the spot upstairs where the furniture stain left a mark on the carpet. It jarred me a little to see the frayed edge where Brad used to scratch the bottom carpeted step like a bad kitty. I stared wistfully at the mantle downstairs. Refinishing it and staining it a rich cherrywood red was one of the first projects Rob did when we moved in. I long for that mantle as the one I have now isn’t nearly so pretty or useful.
I was grateful to see my beloved mandarin orange tree thriving in the back yard. If oranges grew at Woodhaven, that tree would have migrated with us. I was stunned to see the young dwarf lemon tree that Rob planted now standing at least 5 feet tall. Becky expressed embarrassment about the weeds. David noted the long time it takes him to mow the patch of grass in the back. I silently laughed my head off. They don’t know from weeds! In the country, I’ve learned to embrace weeds as indigenous creatures. A too manicured country lawn looks just goofy; at least that’s my excuse. As for the grass, well, we have more carpet in our Woodhaven bathroom than the grass patch we left behind. What used to be 40 minutes of yard work is now 4 hours. But of course, we now have more time and can actually enjoy that 4 hours a lot more than we ever liked that 40 minutes.
Rob and I have talked often over the past three years about how quickly we made changes to Woodhaven yet made very few at our old place. Here, before a single piece of furniture arrived, walls were painted and carpet was replaced. In barely three years, we’ve changed fireplaces and cooktops, replaced doors, remodeled a spare room for games and wine, and replaced a bathroom vanity with a taller, more back-friendly one. Almost from the beginning, Woodhaven has felt more like home than our Bay Area house ever did. And yet, we were very happy in the Bay Area and loved our house. Not until we had something to compare it to did we realize that we just never felt connected to our first house like we do to Woodhaven. We didn't feel as drawn to personalize it and make it ours. Perhaps that’s why it was actually fun and emotionally easy to visit David and Becky and appreciate how pretty their house is.
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