Old houses. They are full of character, they hold stories in their walls. They have drafts. Bats can get in. But they are built from a time when craftsmen took pride in their work. Walls were thick, floors were beautiful wood. Big, Santa friendly fireplaces. Large rooms.
We lived in an old house for thirty years. The center hall, wide and welcoming, was big enough for actual furniture. The kitchen had a kitchen table, not an island. It had a butler’s pantry. It was such a superb home for raising a family. We loved that house.
It had drawbacks. The laundry was in the gloomy basement. Two flights of stairs down, and then back up again, lugging the heavy basket of clothes. The closets were small, and nobody in 1912 thought that folks needed to “walk in” to a closet. Some of the windows were painted shut. House cleaning was a day long affair; it was a big, old place. Dust. So much dust. But it was homey, lovely, and our family dropped roots there.
Now we, the elder empty nesters, live on the top floor of a brand new apartment building. We had no idea how much easier it would be to live in a modern place. There are no drafts. The laundry room is off my closet–no lugging! For the first time in my life, I have a huge kitchen island, so much counter space. I can walk in to my closet, and dance in there if I want to. The windows in every room are gigantic. The sunsets we see from our living room are spectacular– high above the city–pink, orange, and purple. We never saw a sunset at the old place; there were too many trees.
There is a skyline! I always wanted to look out and see a skyline! We have a big balcony, so I have flowers, but there is no lawn maintenance. We can walk to restaurants. We can watch the Dayton Dragons baseball games from the balcony. Fourth of July fireworks are incredible.
We know lots of people who still live in their family homes. As they age, the prospect of moving to a smaller place seems overwhelming. Too much stuff to get rid of. All of that packing up. Selling a house. So they sigh and hope that their children will be fine doing all of that “when the time comes.” They stay put until perhaps the moving won’t be an adventure, but instead a miserable relocation to a “facility.”
We are so glad we decided to have an “adventure” by moving from the burbs into the city. It was a life refresher. We have new friends, a diverse group of neighbors, and did I mention the sunsets?
Get out of that house, empty nesters! Before it’s too late.
