A Memoir of an Old House
A Letter to the Future Owner of Our Home
Don’t forget to flush and turn off the light
Every house tells a story, even yours —
What makes a house a home? Maybe, it’s the afterglow of the family dinners in the kitchen, or the times you read a good book in the sunlight of the window seat. Could it be the memories that seep into the walls — the laughter, the tears, all the firsts?
Your home, wherever it may be, holds traces of your life, hidden in the nooks and crannies, etched into the floorboards by your footsteps. I’ve lived in $45-a-month apartment in a place where the darkness at night held new meaning. My newlywed mansion was a trailer, and once, for $85 a month, I lived in a furnished apartment where I was the only resident under 80.
No matter the abode, it keeps your memories like a photo album.
When my husband and I bought our old Craftsman bungalow, we had no idea how much of ourselves we’d leave behind within these walls. Each project we undertook, each room restored, became a chapter in the story of our home — a story I’d like to share with you in the form of a letter to the next owner.
Dear Strangers,
I’m, Deb.
Likely, you never met…
