I just got back from a quick trip for croissants and The New York Times. It's another gloomy day, so no walk yet -- but I did drive home slowly, winding through neighborhoods where I've spent a lot of time over the past 28 years.
I'm looking at my city with new eyes now. Like most of our friends, my husband and I are in the process of watching children fledge. Our big, old, dilapidated houses are emptying rapidly. We bought them two decades ago, entranced by the architectural detail of the 1910s and '20s, oblivious to the effort and cost that would be required to maintain them. And now that the children are moving on, we have to figure out what to do.
On the whole, we seem to be deciding to stay. The cost of preparing a house for sale is beyond reach. There was a -- to me -- hilarious article in the Times a couple of years ago about a woman who is making a fortune writing about her home in its various states of disrepair. Missing ceilings, exposed lathe, crumbling tiles: "No one else would live like this!" proclaimed the Times. Since I know many people who do, in fact, live like that, I got a good chuckle out of it -- and then wondered why we, too, weren't earning fortune and fame from caved-in ceilings.
In fact, in our house we are missing only the portion of one ceiling at present. But we need electrical repairs, plumbing repairs, tuckpointing, painting, and, according to the city, a new driveway. Not the kinds of things that we could do all at once. So, unless a job transfer results in a move paid for by someone else, we will be here at least another 15 years, making slow headway against our home as it turns 100, and hoping for grandchildren to fill bedrooms that used to be cluttered with Legos and markers.
Two sets of friends have homes in states of major rehabilitation at present. Trucks and ladders everywhere. Others are struggling with layoffs rather than contractors and paint cans. Some are adjusting to the abrupt downsizing that so often follows divorce. Everyone is staring down college tuition bills.
So I drive around and wonder what will become of all of us. Will we manage this transition and still live within walking distance of each other a decade from now? Will we throw baby showers for each other's daughters in the homes in which they grew up? Will any of the children settle here permanently? Will we?
For 28 years I've taken where I live completely for granted. I know where things are in the grocery store, and I have lots of people whom I can call in the middle of the night. But I'm beginning to see how ephemeral it all is, and to pay a lot more attention as I make my daily rounds.
Cemetery in Autumn
6 comments:
Wonderful entry. (as always). I'm addicted to cemeteries and photo's.
That is a fabulous photo!
Interesting thought... about whether you'll be in that house for baby showers and grandchildren. Our house is only 12 years old and we are constantly working on it, but I still think a lot about what the future holds for us here, too. We are here 7 plus years now and were in our first house for 7 plus, so I guess time will tell... I get to see most, if not all, areas of metro atlanta for my job, and I feel we got lucky in where we decided to move (in a matter of 2 months after never having been to atlanta in our lives), but I could see re-locating to a couple of other areas around here after we don't have to worry about kids/schools. Anyway, interesting things to think about here.... Pamela
Ah...what a beautiful picture. I would love to be able to say that I stayed in one place for a long time. I think it would be great if your kids stayed all around you. That's my hope too...
A poignant and moving journal entry today. I hope your community of friends stays connected for a long time as you face the inevitable shifting that occurs as a result of major life passages.
At my house, it is bagels with the NYTimes but there is a ceiling in need of repair and a long list of other items which need significantly more cash than we have hopes of placing our hands on anytime soon.
I can absolutely NOT relate to this. We have owned four different homes in the last dozen years. None of them built earlier than 1957. (Seemed old to me...) And no kids to entertain at the old homestead... But, you know...it seems like it would be neat to be facing your "problem..." Lisa :-]
Post a Comment