Wednesday, July 02, 2008

A Home

Last week, I took a short cut through the street we used to live. Our first house. I hadn’t been down there in maybe a year or so, even though it is only four miles away from where we currently reside.

We loved that house. We knew the minute we walked in it was what we wanted. We put a bid in on it that day and it was accepted. Nerves and excitement don’t even begin to describe signing the papers for that….and the check too.

We lived there for over seven years and moved out three years and one month ago (but who is counting?). We sold it to an incoming Resident at one of the big hospitals in the area (and actually had bought it from a set of Residents at a big area hospital). So it stands to reason that in three years, this person’s residency would be up.

Yet, I was surprised when driving down the street to notice that "our house" was for sale. It looked the same, save the privet I planted between us and the neighbors, so I could block their crappy drive and garage. The privet were mere sticks when I planted them and I had cultivated them into a hedge about 6’ tall. They are now at least 9’ tall. I think they are beyond trimming, unless Lurch moves in.

The few times I have driven down the street, I was amazed that the new owners had every window shut, every blind drawn. I know residents work weird hours, but to close off every source of natural light was just so odd to me.

Immediately when I made it back to our ‘new’ home, I went on-line and looked at what they were selling it for. They are asking $17,000 LESS than what we did. They are asking $10,000 less than they paid us for it.

I don’t know if it is the market or something they’ve done to the house to make it depreciate in value. Or maybe they are motivated sellers, before their Fellowship starts in another city. Perhaps a combination of things. As we drove down the street, Denton mentioned how the ‘hood looked a little sad and rundown – and he was right. So that might be a contributing factor.

Denton also mentioned, that this was probably the first time in the house’s life (88 years) that the value has gone down. Poor little house.

So Sunday, they had an open house. I was determined to go in it and look at the current state of the house and what they had done to our baby. But they say you can't go home again, and maybe Medusa was wrong. As the time came, and we pulled up in front of the house, there was a massive downpour. Or as my mother would say, “it is teeming outside!”

I was thinking it, but Denton said it: “seems like a sign we shouldn’t be going in” – and I think he and the powers that be were right. We stayed put for about five minutes with no let-up in the rain as it pounded the roof of my car to deafening levels.

We decided it was better to keep the memory of what we had, versus what it had become. We didn’t go in.

Five minutes after driving away – the rain stopped.

Song by: the Dixie Chicks

1 comment:

RJ March said...

What interesting, strange points you bring up. That the old house has lost some of its value-- these crazy times. That a closed up house causes you to comment-- it would me too. That this song, Home, was written and performed by Maia Sharp and is every bit as lovely as the Chick's version, provoking tears on morose nights in the past. That you didn't go into the house-- in the car, R would have said something about Jesus not wanting us to go. Maybe R is Denton's psychic twin, as you seem to be mine.