Not Just A House

Dear Potential Buyer,

As you walk into this house, empty and quiet you might be deceived into thinking that it is only a thing of wood and tile, sheetrock and carpet.  You might add those things up in a kind of equation and subtract those features that you imagine you might want and in the sum, you might believe that you have the whole story.  But Dear Searcher you only have half the story, if that.

On that green front door has hung many a wreath to celebrate the seasons and welcome visitors.  Over the threshold we tenderly carried 3 new babies, each in turn and never got as far as the stairs before we crouched down to give a wondering older sibling a glimpse of the long awaited little one. 

The barely gray green of the dining room wall matched exactly the leaf in an antique kimono that I bought in Tokyo years ago.  The deep red of the powder room matched the obi of a geisha playing a koto.  Her lips were the same crimson and her hair was the blackest black.  I always felt happy just looking at that color.

In that kitchen, many neighborhood children would gather every Christmas to make sugar cookies.  They ate more dough than made it onto the cookie sheet but they each took home a Ziploc bag of their creations to put out for Santa on Christmas Eve.  Two babies were bathed in that sink.  Rubber duckies were quite at home there and measuring cups kept them occupied while mommy snipped that first lock and saved it for the baby book.

There used to be a wood and leather rocking chair that my husband brought from Costa Rica--by the fireplace, right in front of those two windows.  In summer, we would rock and watch for squirrels and birds.  On those rare winter days when it was cold enough, we would rock and stare into the fire until mommy and baby were both drowsy.

The master bedroom held an oak sleigh bed that my husband bought for me because it was my dream to have one someday.  The morning light through the shade has the loveliest lavender glow. 

That staircase--it has new carpet now, but it was worn with the feet of happy children and the bottom of a young toddler just learning to navigate it by sliding down on her diaper.  Its banister was hung with lighted greenery every Christmas and it cast a soft glow on children appearing for the first glimpse of Santa's generosity.

The game room was more of a library.  We had 4 bookshelves, each one six feet tall.  There was a window seat too which was just perfect for curling up with a book.  From that window, we watched many beautiful sunsets and we could see the fireworks from that window on the fourth of July.

In the plain bedroom in the back, two little boys shared a room.  They played Rescue Heroes and Lego.  They dressed up as pirates and knights.  At night they whispered until Daddy came in to tell them, "Go to sleep--really."  It was there that they first became best friends.

The bedroom with the wallpaper--my oldest son picked it out to welcome his baby brother.  The bright yellow suns and clouds make it seem bright even on cloudy days.  The crib was pine and carved with a little wave at head and foot.  Three babies gurgled infant secrets to the listening bees and flowers of the border.

So you see, this is not just a house. There is more here.  If, as some people believe, the house absorbs some feeling of those years spent within its walls then some of that happiness we had must remain.  When your heels click on the tile and you hear an echo, listen closely.  It's the remembered laughter that we left behind for you.

Sincerely,

The Sellers