It was built in 1953. We are the fourth occupants in the house's history. Decades before we bought it, it had several major remodels. A one-car garage became a study at some point, then a two-car garage was added, the kitchen was redesigned, central heat and air was added, a master bathroom was added. The list goes on. Still, the house wasn't even close to what Blythe and I wanted when we bought it in February 2003. Much of the work done on the house was of very poor quality, probably done by a brother-in-law rather a than a professional. It was just a basic, entry-level starter home – a total fixer-upper.
There are times when I imagine being an old man, maybe in one of those assisted living facilities -- hopefully, a nice one. I imagine sitting on a veranda, pondering my life's work. I'll probably smell like Ben-Gay ointment. Jakob and Elliot may drop by from time to time to visit. Among other things, I often wonder what my two boys will think of the house where they grew up. Both boys came home from the hospital to this house. What will be their overall feeling of the house? Will they remember the yard always being green and (mostly) weed-free? Will they remember the hard work their mom and I put into it? Children generally have it better than their parents, so will their own homes be larger and nicer? There has been an interesting personal shift in the last few years. I've noticed that, as I grow older, I am increasingly focused on what kind of home I have for my family rather than for me, or to be envied by my friends and neighbors.
The opening sequence in the Pixar film UP will always make me cry because it is so similar to the life Blythe and I have with each other. Everything we have, we've built or earned slowly with a lot of work. I just hope our boys know that.