My kids were really upset 5 years ago when we moved out of "their" house. I mean upset upset upset. But now they plan to be married in our back yard.

We moved into a bigger house and our family immediately appreciated the extra bathroom, the attached garage where we actually park our cars, and an upstairs where they can spread out.
It's wonderful that you are not upset. It might take a couple of years for it to feel like home. I know what you mean about being traditional especially around the holidays.

I'm humming thanks for the memories as I type. I hope you have a Merry time over the next couple of weeks. New traditions are nice too!

Hi Tisha,

We moved out of our first house when I was eight years old. Even though I hadn't lived there for years it was a comfort to know that it was always there and that I could drive by it.

Well, several years ago the house burned down. That is when it was sad to me. Now when I drive by the house I see a brand-new house in its place. It definitely is not the same.

As far as holidays are concerned I have always thought that it was the people at holiday and family get-togethers that made the events not the place itself. I hope that the holidays in your parents "new" house start some new traditions as Diane said.

Larry

Larry, I know what you mean. The hardest thing for me over the years was cleaning out my grandma's house after she died. I basically grew up there too. It was 5 minutes from my parent's old house and my grandma babysat me at least 3 days a week for most of my life.

One of her nieces bought the house after she died. We knew it wouldn't be taken care of like it was when she was alive. A couple of years ago I drove by and I was so mad I wanted to stop and gripe someone out. I guess at some point the storm door got broken or something and they didn't bother to put a new one on. My grandma's beautiful front door was ruined from the rain and weather exposure. It broke my heart.

Tisha,

I can really sympathize with you. My grandmother died a little over 10 years ago in October. I was not able to go back to the funeral because of health problems. I was able to travel back there by Christmas though and it was very important for me to go see her house. Because I didn't see her at the funeral I basically needed to say goodbye to her at her place. It was a strange feeling. I had never been in my grandmother's house without her being there. I almost felt like I was an intruder. The living room was divided into several piles. Each pile belonging to whoever gave her those items and also containing what that person was inheriting from her. It was definitely sureal. There is a saying that we really don't own anything but rather borrow it while we are alive. How true that seemed to me when I looked at all of those piles.

Her house was a two-bedroom bungalow with a porch in front. The people who bought her house immediately ripped out the overgrown juniper bushes in front of her porch. That was actually an improvement but what they did with the rest of the yard was a real shame. She had lots of rosebushes and other kinds of bushes that really complemented the yard. These people tore out everything. Lilacs, a mock orange, a rose of sharon, were all taken out. And, the place was not kept up like my grandmother had. I keep having to tell myself that this house belongs to the new owners now and they can do whatever they want to with it. They are not obligated to keep it like my grandmother did. I actually have done very well with seeing the changes to my grandmother's house but my mother has had a hard time with it.

When I go back home I would rather go by my grandmother's house than go to her gravesite. I don't think of my grandmother being in the cemetery. I think of her as being in that old house.

Larry

I lived in the same house from the time I was 5 until I was 16, and I really hated to leave. Mostly I hated leaving my friends, my school, etc, but I hated leaving the house, too. My mom still lives in the place we moved to, but it has never been "home" to me like the house where I grew up was. I went back to my home turf a few years ago and saw the house. There were new, larger windows, a big deck...all improvements, and yet, even that seemed kind of sad in a way. Isn't sentimentality a funny thing? You'd think, with my decorator/remodeler's heart, I'd have loved to see the changes, but instead if felt like a little of my childhood was being rubbed away.
Gee, I'm really helping, huh, Tisha! Well, I'm glad you're ok with your folks' move so far. Having your parents still healthy, and having all the same decorations and holiday stuff, it should still feel like home wherever you gather!

The first time I met my (then) future son-in-law was when my daughter came home for Thanksgiving a few years ago. He told me during that visit that now he understood why she always said she was "going home", since he always said "I'm going to see my mother or sister or just to CA." Everything was just as she left it--her family, her dogs, her room. Well, the dogs are gone now and I hope to think if for some reason we have to move, she'll always think where we are is home.

As for my old homes, I've driven by the one where I actually grew up a few times in daylight with the car doors locked. It was a double with nice porches in front. We lived upstairs. The lower windows are boarded up and, given the neighborhood now, it may well be a drug house. The one we moved to from there, and my girls remember as Nana and Papu's house is still kept up nicely but that neighborhood has problems now too and I'd be worried sick if they still lived there. So be happy that they're in a better place and enjoy being together on Christmas morning. And, hey, no matter how you look at it a second bathroom is always a plus. Sandy