In 1974, my parents moved into their newly constructed dream home eon Muir Court. The three bedroom house had a master with a walk in closet, a living room with tile floors, a separate den, and dining room. Furthermore, it was equipped with every modern feature of the time shag carpet, automatic dish washer, electric oven, washer and dryer: all in the very ubiquitous 70’s olive green tint. My mother wondered how she would ever find enough to furnish such a massive home. Fortunately, she found green couches, curtains, lazy boys and dishes to match .
Almost three decades later, after two grown children, 3 college degrees, one major hurricane, 8 different automobiles, More than 25 Christmas trees and Thanksgiving turkeys, two damn good Beagles, and one mean ass cat, they finally sold.
In this house they raised us, educate and entertained us. We came to the house as babies and left bigger, better, smarter, and taller. We could not wait to leave that house and enter the world semi equipped to forge our own homes. My parents stood at the door and watched me leave and then years later opened the same door as I brought their first grandchild to visit.
Nelson and I drove by the house today and we both were most struck by the smallness of it all. It wasn’t nearly as big as the homes we own now. The yard we once combed in endless games of hide and seek and kick ball, seemed hardly the vast terrain it once was. This same yard my dad mowed and edged once a week was now hidden by a dilapidated boat and sea of weeds. The once thriving court has now fallen victim to vacancies, renters, and time. We briefly stopped the car and examined this tangible backdrop of our childhood and were momentarily without words. For a second, all I could hear was my own voice combined with his playing in the yard in front of us and my mother calling us in to eat.
The real tragedy of being young is not having yet developed an appreciation for the experience of childhood. As a teen, I could not wait to leave Muir Court. And here we were parked in front searching for any signs of us. But we were no longer there. We are now filling up our own big houses now.
We all rush through these magical years never realizing the biggest house you ever live in is your first.
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| Not Quite Ready For the Young Whiting Family |
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| Mom and me |
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ReplyDeleteI took a trip down memory lane this past weekend too. I visited my old homested in Memphis. I lived there from birth to 13. It was smaller than I recalled, and honestly was amazed it was still standing.
ReplyDeleteJust down the street, I noticed a familiar play spot. A neighbors' dad had built a "spaceship" on 4 posts – much like a tree house. We'd climb up the ladder and into the cock pit of what felt like – a real spaceship. Switches and knobs were all there too. Amazingly, the spacehip was still in my old neighbors back yard. The metal had rusted but the overall structure still stood. It was an amazing site. I took a photo and shared with my brother via Facebook since he lives in Japan.
You can see the house and the "still standing" spaceship at: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2131701205689&set=a.2130882825230.120377.1040780204&type=1&theater
The house seemed like a castle when we bought it, actually it was-ours. So much took place in it.I remember trembling at the closing as I signed the papers agreeing to pay back $27.000.I wondered if we could afford it, had I picked out "too" much? Happily I hadn't and the house sold for several times this amount the first week it was on the market.It was extreme joy both buying and selling this home because I was all too ready to move to Gulf Shores full-time.
ReplyDeleteLove the pics... I went to my childhood home this past year as well, there is a giant dummy of a man in the front yard surrounded by a huge concrete slab. I'm told this is for either practicing Kung foo or training attack dogs... They also painted an 80's cedar home a weird blue beige color...
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