We are selling the house. Yes, the house we labored over (and under), the one we restored with our own sweat and bulging biceps (ahem), the house that we thought we’d be in forever. (And ever.)
Why, why, why would we sell this home of our hearts? Turns out there’s another project. And not in one of those, fix-a-house, sell-the-house, fix-a-house, sell-the-house kinds of ways. It’s just a charming home that comes with a new venture for my husband. So after weeks and months of discussions and calculations, we’ve decided to go for it.
Those conversations included, naturally, the ghosts of the house. They’re friendly, they like us, they make us feel like part of their family. How do I know? … Eh, I don’t. But then again, I do.
The house is not haunted, but it’s warm and friendly all the time. We don’t hear chains in the attic, but we do feel connections when we put our hands on the 120-year-old oak. And let’s not forget that the maid’s spirit shines bright within me.
I was feeling guilty; guilty about leaving the home, guilty about making such a fuss over our project and then selling it. I was feeling guilty when I dropped Marta off at a playdate one morning, and when I mentioned my guilt to the mother there she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, things change. That’s life.”
She’s right. This is life. We brought our family’s light to this home, and I’d like to think we’ve done good by it. There will be another family to sit on the front porch, watching the fireworks fly on the fourth. Another kid will turn the steps in the yard into a sledding hill after a snowstorm. Another mother will be struck still by the sunset lighting up her child’s room at bedtime. They will feel connected. They will bring joy. They will add warmth.
As for us? I’d like to believe that the next house will also have ghosts to entertain.
Interested in learning more about the home’s history and checking out what it looks like now? Visit MFQuaintanceHouse.blogspot.com.