A Letter to the Folks who Just Bought My Old House

First of all, thank you.

I really appreciate you having made the offer to purchase that 90-year old house with so much character. Thanks even more for coming through on the deal! Oh sure, some of your asks rather annoyed me, but I’m easily annoyed anyway. And I get it: you’re investing in your future - you want to make sure certain things are in place. Although I wasn’t tickled at the time, it was well worth bringing in a plumber and an electrician to update those items - you were right; they weren’t exactly up to code. So I hope you’re happy with your new pipes and taps in the upstairs bathroom and that you’re safe with the new wiring that honestly needed to be brought into the current century. So good on you - and by extension, good on me and great all around because you still bought the house.

Secondly, I apologize.

I’m sorry that I rented the house out the last 5 years. The house I left behind in July 2016 was in much better shape than the one you just bought. Yes, the tenants paid their rent and kept the place heated through the winter months, but they didn’t LOVE it the way I did - the way I hope you will. And that’s on me. Back then, I couldn’t sell it as I had initially hoped so I opted to rent it out. So someone else had a home in my house before you came along. And I’m sorry that their standards for maintaining that house were not the same as my own. I took my foot off the gas. So I’ll have to take a mulligan on that one. But I will say this - the clean-up crew and garbage removal folks who worked so hard on a tight budget and an even tighter deadline really brought their A Game to restore the integrity of the property. So please be mindful of the comparison between what you first looked at and bid upon vis-à-vis what you walked into today when you got the keys. I hope you appreciate the hard work that went into trying to give you more of the home you deserve. And I hope you can build upon it.

A few things you ought to know:

1. That little room off the hallway by the kitchen with the French door? That used to be my kids’ playroom. The area next to the door hinges used to be the spot where I took their measurements over the years. I painted over it five years ago and it broke my heart. A lot of growing up took place in that house. Literally. Absolutely, in the sense of my kids. But I grew up a lot in my time there too. I hope you have the chance to grow in that house as well.

2. The bedroom adjacent to the bathroom upstairs? The door on it is heavy. I know this because there were occasions when a certain teenage girl would slam it. There is nothing in the world that sounds quite as jarring as the sound of a self-righteous female adolescent asserting her budding autonomy in conjunction with her frustration with her ignorant, stupid mother by slamming a heavy door. I was going to say that I hope that you never hear that sound. But then again, I kind of hope that you do. Not with malice. But because it’s all part of growing up. And she and I are still friends - perhaps with a better understanding of one another because she slammed that door… and because I didn’t tear it off it’s hinges. So I wish you patience and understanding. And occasional loud noises.

3. There is a corner on the deck where my oldest boy would stubbornly sit and wait twenty minutes before coming back into the house. This would be in response to me telling him to “get off the computer and get outside”. He found a loophole. And it has served him well. He’s grown into an independent, self-motivated free-thinker. So I wish you the benefits that come along with maneuvering loopholes (just not with the sale of this house, if you don’t mind).

4. The yellow bedroom upstairs? I couldn’t help but notice that the red marker initials of my youngest son are still clearly on display by the light switch. I couldn’t bring myself to wipe them off soon enough. I was impressed by his printing as well as his use of colour. I know you’ll paint over it (and so you really should), but I hope such little imperfections that you find around the house encourage and unlock your creativity.

5. I know the kitchen is small. But it is cozy. It’s the place where I planned meals for the week and made brunch any weekend days that we weren’t on the road for sports/dance/theatre. From there, I could hear the goings-on in the playroom, living room, and backyard, even the occasional wrestling match upstairs. I’m getting the warm and fuzzies just thinking about it. It’s amazing what you can learn when they have no idea you’re listening. It is crucial that you have the opportunity to be a fly on the wall in the lives of those with whom you live. So I wish you the chance to be a part of everything that’s going on in your home - whether you realize it at the time or not.

So I guess that’s it.

I don’t know what your plans are and I guess it’s really none of my business.

I just hope you make some great memories to add to the bones of that old house.

It’s still standing.

And believe it or not, it needs you just as much as you need it.

"I'll light the fire... you place the flowers in the vase that you bought... today..." ~ Lyrics from Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young