This is a picture of the house I grew up in. In fact, that’s me with my mom sitting on the front step.
Looking at this picture evokes warm memories of my childhood. I played Barbie’s on those front steps with my friends; we spent endless hot summer evenings playing tag in that front yard.
Behind that large picture window is a living room with hardwood floors that were polished to a golden sheen by Mom. That window on the other side is where Mom and Dad’s bedroom is.
The basement windows? Well the one under the picture window is where the basement kitchen was. Yes, we had a kitchen in the basement. When Dad built the house he thought he might have renters downstairs at some point but we never did so that basement kitchen was used for Mom’s sewing room. The other basement window was for a room we called the rumpus room. You don’t hear that term very often any more; it was really just a play room.
Fast-forward fifty years. Here is the way that house looks today. Appealing? Comfy? Homey? I hope that whoever lives there now finds it to be so.
I wish they would cut down those trees that have been left to take over the front. It doesn’t look cared-for any longer, and that makes me sad when I think of the years and effort that Mom and Dad put into making that house our home.
My plea to anyone who lives in an older home is to honor those who were there before you. Remember that the house, no matter how run down it may be today, was once a source of pride for the original home owners and they worked hard to take care of it.