I’ve come to believe we don’t own a place, a place owns us. Oh sure, legally we make payments and claim ownership even when the mortgage company may share in the title. But as we scrape and paint every corner and memorize each creak of the floorboards, the place becomes part of the fabric of our family, the place where memories are made and held like a family photo album.
Our Worth Street home celebrated her 104th birthday this year. Our twelve years here is only a flash compared to the families who came before us.
Yesterday we had the pleasure of visiting with Mark and Betsy Hults, the prior owners who sold us Worth Street and called this place home for eighteen years. Mark and Betsy did MAJOR renovation to the home. And they prove my point of a place owning us. After they heard the house was on the market, they asked to visit, to see the home one more time. I was thrilled. I needed to talk to someone who once felt the exact angst I am feeling.
We walked through each room, shared family memories and tales that come with living in a historic home. Although we don’t know each other that well—communicating only a couple of times since they sold the house to us and moved to Atlanta—our house gives us an instant bond. Both our families love this place and always will. (They raised a son and daughter here too.)
Places touch us. We do the best we can while its ours. We trust the next owner will continue caring for her, maintaining, improving and loving her. She’s part of us.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Here are a few pictures of our home before and during the Hults’ renovation.
Musical Pairing:
Boston, More Than a Feeling
Great post. What a nice thing to visit with the Hults, the previous owners. I know they loved what you and John have done to “their house”.
I love old homes (mine is only 71 years) and so admire and appreciate folks who are able to restore one as this one was. What a gift that they were able to see the potential. I know it was hard for them (and you) to leave.
Dot I am so thankful for the previous owners and their vision. If not for them, I doubt John and I would have ever lived in this wonderful home.
Love this, Talya! I hope you get to reminisce with the new owners one day.
I hope so too Peggy! Thanks.
Awesome post, Talya, and though I never made it to Dallas for a visit, I have to say that from the pics I’ve seen of your Dallas home, it looks extremely nice. I know you and John will miss it, but living in Hog Heaven, I’m sure, will make up for it. I know it would for me!!!=) WPS!!!
Yes living in Hog Heaven will be heavenly:)
Also, Boston ROCKS!!!….My favorite LP….uhhh,…cassette….no, CD…haha….I’ve bought them all, and now my sons borrow it and then for some reason, they can’t seem to find it when I asked for it back…They’re hooked on Boston like their Pops…=)
Love me some Boston too.
Your post gave me chills. I remember when my mother came to live with us when she was too frail to live alone. She said she felt guilty about leaving her little house. It was the second place she had lived in her life. After she died and we cleared it out to sell, Terry said with a tear in his eye, “So many memories…” which is so true. It’s the one house in the neighborhood that has been kept up and renovated some: central ac/h and nice siding. I’ve driven by countless times and stopped when it was on the market and walked in the yard. Maybe next time, I’ll knock on the door. The people who renovated yours certainly had a vision. What fun for them to come back by. Lovely post, by the way.
Yes there’s a feeling of “cheating on my house” as I prepare to leave. But as I’ve said before, we are only caretakers.
How quickly a house deteriorates without constant upkeep and thousands of dollars. My dad, the carpenter, turned curmudgeon toward the last and didn’t do any upkeep. That now falls on my shoulders. If I do what all needs doing . . . well, there goes my children’s inheritance. Great post.
So true about the upkeep. These old houses are certainly a labor of love. Can’t wait to see your new floors.