There is a cute little town square with a gazebo that I love. Main street has preserved the historic buildings. The houses in town are all the little cookie cut ginerbread looking house.. victorian like.. picturesque. To tell you the truth, it would really be a terrible town to raise a kid in. It has that great feeling of down home comfortbility that people look for. It's beautiful.
Down on Green Street, there is a house. A pink and white craftsman style house. From the outside it looks quite large, and even has a garage apartment seperate in the back. On the inside the rooms are small and quaint.. just like they were in the old days. Each room has a specific purpose.. giving no more room than a family would need. It's historic inside. A great example of the era.
John's family moved out a few years ago to a newer house that didn't require so much upkeep. The old house the moved out of.. the one that John grew up in.. the one that John has so many memories in... is still up for sale. A new owner bought it and is trying to turn around and resell it.
Unfortunaly, without much luck. They have let the house go. Doors are missing, windows broken, and the weeds are out of control. The heart and soul of the house has basically been forgotten and there it stands waiting for a new owner.
This weekend, we decided to revisit it and get some pictures before the house does sell and there are new owners that don't really want us taking pictures of the quaint little porch.
Joshua vaguely remember the house, but knew that it use to be Daddy's old house. John look sad as we treched though the reminense of what use to be some of the happiest memories of his life.
He grew here. He loved here. He laughed here. He cried here.
He got into trouble here.
And now the house is in trouble. A lifetime of joys that will eventually fall to pieces if someone soon doesn't see the beauty in it and buy it.
Might just be the hormones but this sure makes me tear up. It makes me think of where I grew up. I cannot go to the house we lived in because its being lived in and last time we drove down that dirt road, it looked pretty unkept. My grand parents house sat at the front of the property, luckily my uncle lives there now. We got out of the car to take a look around my grand parents house and the smell of cotton wood trees instantly made me remember being a kid there and growing up. Its always hard going back to those places. Specially when so much has changed.
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