My Friend is Selling her Roots
Recently my Long Lost Twin began posting on her blog about selling her house. Just reading that they are selling filled me with profound sadness.
Before I even knew I HAD a twin, much less lost her, she and her hubby purchased a small one story two bedroom (if memory serves me right) "starter" home. This was well over twenty years ago.
Her hubby, being an architect of wisdom and renown, made plans for that little house. They did something I've never heard of before or since - - - and which they say even THEY would never do again because of the mess and difficulty - - - they put on a second story. But what a house it made.
They proceeded to raise their family of five - - - four boys and one princess - - - who is all lady and yet can "whip" the toughest boy at basketball - - - in that home. Between child four and child five is where I met my twin. We were between child three and four ourselves at the time, and our children were closely stair-stepped in age, cementing the bond between us.
This is also where I "met" my friend's house. And what a house. There are pieces of themselves and their children around every nook and cranny. Every wall, every stair, every nail a memory. They took a boring little two bedroom ranch and made it into a family heirloom.
Now it, this lovely heirloom, is for sale. And my heart is breaking.
I understand all their reasons (well, the ones they've stated anyway) and my brain can agree with them and even wish them God Speed and blessings. They are wise people, my twin and her hubby. They would not make a hasty decision.
And yet my heart is breaking, and I ask myself, "why?"
And I know what it is. It is the ROOTS. By selling their home they are selling the ROOTS. And even though they are THEIR roots to sell - - - those roots feel like they are in part also my roots. Vicarious roots.
This, lovely though it be, is the 15th house in which I've lived in my life. That does NOT include my college dormitory nor the house I shared with a friend for a summer NOR the camp I lived and worked in for the next summer.
While there are certain "perks" to having lived in many places - - - like the possibility of collecting many dearly cherished friends and experiencing many places - - - there are no roots. No longevity. No continuing history of setting.
I was born and raised in a parsonage in Wisconsin. No - - - not A parsonage, rather FIVE of them in three different communities. So I cling to Wisconsin as being a root - - - and the tendrils I cling to most are our vacation cabin (which we RENT BTW) and my beloved Badgers.
After high school graduation I spent the summer of '72 (1972, not 1872) traveling around Africa and Europe before settling in my college "home" in South Carolina where hubby entered my life. Since then hubby and I have lived in four different communities and ten different homes.
I find myself with no roots - - - except those I vicariously cling to.
So dear Long Lost Twin, I am grieving the relinquishing of YOUR roots. They are beautiful roots and though since I've returned to the full time work force I have not come to your roots to enjoy them WITH you (and thus the Long Lost part) I have known they were there, and I have LOVED them. And I love you. And I do not wish you to turn back - - - I only grieve your turning.
And now tears are welling in my eyes - - - -
Before I even knew I HAD a twin, much less lost her, she and her hubby purchased a small one story two bedroom (if memory serves me right) "starter" home. This was well over twenty years ago.
Her hubby, being an architect of wisdom and renown, made plans for that little house. They did something I've never heard of before or since - - - and which they say even THEY would never do again because of the mess and difficulty - - - they put on a second story. But what a house it made.
They proceeded to raise their family of five - - - four boys and one princess - - - who is all lady and yet can "whip" the toughest boy at basketball - - - in that home. Between child four and child five is where I met my twin. We were between child three and four ourselves at the time, and our children were closely stair-stepped in age, cementing the bond between us.
This is also where I "met" my friend's house. And what a house. There are pieces of themselves and their children around every nook and cranny. Every wall, every stair, every nail a memory. They took a boring little two bedroom ranch and made it into a family heirloom.
Now it, this lovely heirloom, is for sale. And my heart is breaking.
I understand all their reasons (well, the ones they've stated anyway) and my brain can agree with them and even wish them God Speed and blessings. They are wise people, my twin and her hubby. They would not make a hasty decision.
And yet my heart is breaking, and I ask myself, "why?"
And I know what it is. It is the ROOTS. By selling their home they are selling the ROOTS. And even though they are THEIR roots to sell - - - those roots feel like they are in part also my roots. Vicarious roots.
This, lovely though it be, is the 15th house in which I've lived in my life. That does NOT include my college dormitory nor the house I shared with a friend for a summer NOR the camp I lived and worked in for the next summer.
While there are certain "perks" to having lived in many places - - - like the possibility of collecting many dearly cherished friends and experiencing many places - - - there are no roots. No longevity. No continuing history of setting.
I was born and raised in a parsonage in Wisconsin. No - - - not A parsonage, rather FIVE of them in three different communities. So I cling to Wisconsin as being a root - - - and the tendrils I cling to most are our vacation cabin (which we RENT BTW) and my beloved Badgers.
After high school graduation I spent the summer of '72 (1972, not 1872) traveling around Africa and Europe before settling in my college "home" in South Carolina where hubby entered my life. Since then hubby and I have lived in four different communities and ten different homes.
I find myself with no roots - - - except those I vicariously cling to.
So dear Long Lost Twin, I am grieving the relinquishing of YOUR roots. They are beautiful roots and though since I've returned to the full time work force I have not come to your roots to enjoy them WITH you (and thus the Long Lost part) I have known they were there, and I have LOVED them. And I love you. And I do not wish you to turn back - - - I only grieve your turning.
And now tears are welling in my eyes - - - -
posted by Keetha Broyles | 10:04 AM
16 Comments:
Great post. I completely understand the longing for roots. Whenever I watch movies where everyone comes "home" to the home they grew up in and where mom and dad continue to live, I WANT that for my kids.
Yet I also understand the need to move on. Things change/happen. I think that is one of the (many) things that make family traditions so important. They are portable. No matter where you live, you and your family can take comfort in the familiarity of the traditions you do together. They become part of our roots.
How difficult it must be for them to move from a home they put so much work into and lived in for so long! I had a hard enough time leaving mine and Hubby's first home, and we'd only lived there 5 years!
Thanks for the reminder on the importantance of roots. =0)
You are right - - - traditions do trump roots.
But I think we all long for roots too, and we make some if we don't come equipped with them!!! :-)
Ah roots.
My parents sold the house that I grew up in but luckily stayed in the same community. That is where my roots are, and that's good enough.
As far as 'greater' family roots are concerned, my dad's mom sold her home in the mid '90's. His family had owned it since the '20's-the only owners until then. If I hadn't been so young I might have bought it. It still makes me sick that it's not ours anymore. My grandfather was a brick mason and the front walk, back fence, built in bbq, all of it, spoke of loving hands creating a place for all of us to be together.
So you do understand letting go of roots. I didn't see this coming - - - but find I am really struggling with it, and they AREN'T EVEN MY ROOTS!!!!
You will probably find that their new home feels just the same to you-because it's theirs!
Keetha, I understand! As a missionary kid and now a missionary, I long for roots, too! However, I´ve come to realize that WHEREVER our loved ones are, that´s where our roots lie. Plus, NOT having roots on this Earth makes the thought of Heaven that much sweeter for me.
But, that doesn´t change the fact that I was teary-eyed as I read your blog. My heart understands.
Usually I just "accept" my rootless condition - - - much like you do. This is just one of those times that brings it home.
Wow! My heart is so torn. I am so excited about a new place to make our home. And I am so sad about leaving this house we have called home for 29 years.
I pray that the family who buys this house will find as much joy, laughter and fun as we have had.
I know God is leading us to make a change and we are trusting Him to help us make our new location - wherever that may be - become "home". We pray that everyone who passes through the doors of wherever we live will sense God's love and grace. We hope they will understand special they are to us and how much God loves them.
Thank you for your post. I never dreamed our move would cause so many people to reflect on the idea of "home".
May God bless your home and mine, too!
Wow.
Kathy, I think it is because so FEW of us have been able to stay in the same house for 29 years and make it home.
And I know you WILL do all those things in your new HOME.
After reading this post I was curious as to what the house looked like so I clicked on Phil and Kathy which I finally figured were selling the house. She said she would post pictures later..so I will await them there. Speaking of roots, I went to Columbus yesterday to help some folks down there that experienced the flood a couple of weeks ago. Wow! Talk about loosing ....it was really sad to see the situation many of the houses are in now. The hospital runs strictly out of these mobile units. I'll try to post pics later this week.
There are some pictures of the pool area of Kathy's house and some taken at family gatherings INSIDE too - - - but no pictures of just their house. It's not just the house - - - it's the roots.
I saw on your blog that you'd been to the flood area, am waiting for the pictures!!
You may feel you have no roots...but yet the houses we lived in were made HOMES by you and Dad and in that are MY roots.
Like Runningamuck said, the traditions and the things we did as a family are the roots and you guys made sure we had that.
Thanks, Keri - - - now YOU'RE making me get all teary eyed all over again!!! :-)
(that's a GOOD thing.)
Pictures are posted of our house. We joked that we liked the way it is looking (after many years of blodo, sweat and tears) that we might just put an offer on it ourselves - ha!
Blessings to all of you readers and comment-ers!
I totally get it, Keetha. My parents bought this house when I was two months old and sold it when I was almost 19. I had dreams of this house and what the owners had done to it. Funny thing is, after we bought this house and I knew what it looked like now, I had dreams of my grandparents' houses.
Anyway, Keri is right. My parents' home is a home because they made it that way. We enjoy being together as a family, no matter where it is. I do have to admit that it is fun to reminisce about what happened here, though. Lots of fun memories.
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