Tuesday, September 22, 2009

You Really Can't Go Home Again


Bill and I visited our former home in Pennsylvania today. We just got back home here in Delaware a few minutes ago. All I can say is that we're still in shock after discovering the advanced state of disrepair of our former home and property.




The grounds were totally unkempt. I don't believe the hedges were ever trimmed since the say we sold the property on November 17, 2006. Fallen branches and debris litter the lawn at every turn.



The fish ponds are still there but are full of decaying leaves. Much to my surprise I saw two goldfish. God knows how they survived the past almost three years. I feel so guilty leaving them to this fate.



The inside of the house is just as bad. The beautiful solid walnut wood floors that were Varathaned to a high gloss, are chipped and scratched big time. I suspect the scratches are mostly from dog toenails since the owners have a dog. The scratches are extra high near the windows where the dog obviously got excited when someone approached the house.



Most of the walls are half stripped of wall paper.



The rusty wheel barrow I left leaning against the tree because I didn't have room for it in my car is still leaning in the same spot as are many other items I did not remove.



The house is being sold "as is." It is advertised as "needing a little TLC." I would say.



Bill and I were really looking forward to seeing what the new owners did with the house. Now we know. They didn't do much except replace a shower with a bathtub for their daughters' bedroom and make a home office in the space above the garage.



On the way up to Pennsylvania this morning Bill and I were discussing open casket funerals. Bill doesn't like them. They don't bother me. I told Bill the first time I saw a dead body in an open casket was when I was 18 years old and the deceased person was my Uncle John Tipton who died in an accident (he burned to death.) Almost everyone remarked "how well he looked." I looked at him and I didn't see my Uncle John. I saw a shell that he inhabited while he was on this earth. The man I knew was gone. He had departed from this shell (body) he occupied during his time on earth. I had that same feeling today when I saw our old home. It isn't our home anymore. It is a shell. That house and property does not posses the life it did when we were there with our three dogs. As a good friend of mine said about his home before he was about to move "This house used to sing, it doesn't sing now." That's the way I feel now. Our former home doesn't sing anymore. We have a new home here in Delaware and it sings.

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