In 1981 we decided that it was time to buy a house...so we did. 50K price, with 17.75% interest rate on our first mortgage. It was an old house, which is what we thought we wanted. We loved it and worked on it, and struggled with it, and put on a small bathroom and lived with the low ceilings, slanted floors, lousy location. We had two dogs in that house and one cat. My parents stayed with us on the fold out sofa. Friends with babies came. My two darling nephews stayed over many many nights.
Due to many reasons, it all became too much for us and we put it on the market in August 2001. We all know what that year was like, and it stayed on the market for a long long time while we built a new house.
In March 2002 we moved out of this old house and to our newly built house. It took me a long time to get used to the new house, all the bells and whistles it had...like more than 1 electrical outlet per room, and an automatic garage door opener.
I went and visited the old house occasionally, and only went in once when the new owners had moved out and asked us (me) to "check in on the house" if I had time. Of course I checked in on it - that house was like our baby. DH did NOT check in on it, he's better at letting go and leaving things behind.
Another couple bought the house and lived there for about 6 years or so. No one knew them. No one ever saw them and they didn't return visits to the neighbors. Then it was on the market again.
Last summer some new people moved in and I stopped by on a whim. They were lovely people, with two young daughters. They loved the house and were used to old houses. They asked me to come by at Christmas as they had a card for us - so I stopped by one evening and went in. The house looked so beautiful. The fireplace was on, the Christmas lights twinkling. They had it decorated beautifully, and it just looked great. I came away very happy that the house was loved....and very weepy for some reason. It literally took me a few days to get over that visit. I kept reminding myself of leaky windows, and low ceilings.
Today I found out that the house is on the market again...and probably has been sold already (houses are selling very quickly around here suddenly).
I feel so bad for the house! In some strange way, that house had an "awareness" of itself - there is no other way that I can describe it. It wasn't "haunted" - it just has layers of consciousness. I've written before of the fact that the house didn't want us to leave, and threw up all kinds of roadblocks as we tried to sell..it wasn't until both of us - independently - went to the house and explained exactly why we had to leave that the strange happenings stopped. The house sold the night we had that discussion.
I'm getting a bit weepy again over the poor house being sold/abandoned again. I'm sure the young couple decided to make a few bucks on it - and good for them. But the poor house! I miss it, I miss our life there, I miss my dog and cat, and being young, in love, foolish, fresh, having babies around, and parents spry enough to sleep on a fold out sofa. I could never move back, I am too spoiled now with a basement studio, and lots of lights and cable TV, and extra rooms. But I do miss it all.
Isn't it silly?
Postscript: I had a wonderful time at mom's 90th party but haven't posted as I came home with an awful cold, which has turned in a "little bit of pneumonia", and am on antibiotics which make me sleepy and silly. I'll be back soon...when I get over feeling sorry for myself and get some good cough free sleep.