For the first two years we lived in Pascagoula we lived in an apartment. It was behind the Longfellow House, a local place of fame. There were two two-story apartment buildings. One faced West, the other, South. Ours was in the Westward facing building, second story (13 steps), end of the building. These apartments were built as vacation condos, not homes. There was a tiny living room, three gigantic bedrooms – each with its own bathroom – and a tiny kitchen. John Robert was very young, Nicole was in High School. We made it OK there for a few years but it was growing tiresome. We started looking in earnest for a new house in Pascagoula.
Our financial prospectus wasn’t looking very good at the time, so we had a fairly low price in mind. The kind Realtor kept showing us house after house but none of them were what we were looking for. We raised our minimum and started looking at a new level of houses. That really didn’t help either.
I honestly can’t tell you who spotted THE house first. It could have been me on my way to the office, taking a different route. It could have been Maggy. But wesaw the FOR SALE BY OWNER sign in the yard. Maggy and Lynda Lingle came over and looked in all the windows. The house was empty and immaculate. Some of it was very old fashioned but it had plenty of room and was one block from the church building. Maggy loved it.
It didn’t take long for us to move into our well-kept but old house. After the wonder of having a beautiful new home wore off a bit, we did notice several things about the house that we wish were different. Still, we were grateful to live in such a nice roomy home.
I do not think that anyone expected what would happen on August 29, 2005. Our home that we loved was flooded with a surge of seawater from Hurricane Katrina. We had from 3-4 feet of water in our home for about an hour. The apartment we lived in for the first two years was caved in … the south facing building was totally destroyed. Of course we were not here, we were at Maggy’s parents anxiously awaiting news. Danny Dodd and friends from Gateway Church of Christ in Pensacola were the first to walk in our house with us to look at the damage.
Over three years later most of the home has been renovated …. and mostly by volunteers. I wish I knew all of their names. but needless to say our home looks newer than the day we moved into it. And after a decade and a half of living within a few blocks of the Gulf of Mexico, we are moving into North Louisiana.
It was in this house that John Robert grew up running down the hall, lazing in his room, watching tv with us. It was into this house that Claire was born and spent her first nine years, growing into a beautiful young woman. Like everyone’s house it is full of memories and stories. And in a few days we will drive away from this house for the last time. This time we will not carry the keys in our pocket. Someone else will begin making their own memories here.
I wonder if the house will miss us? I wonder if it’s sighing and saying, ‘why are they leaving… I did my best‘. I wonder if that gathering moisture in the corner of the window pane is a tear. She has given us her strength all these years. And now someone else needs her. It is time to say goodbye to this house.
Thanks for reading,
John
1715 looks great. The landscaping in beautiful. You are leaving her in a wonderful condition.
May God bless your new place.
C3
I agree. What a beautiful home you’ve left for someone new to make memories. Well done.
I remember moving out of my dad’s house after he died and I couldn’t keep up the note. I was 25, engaged and about to be married in just a couple months, and had never been out on my own.
I didn’t even think about it that much at first, except to be upset that I couldn’t budget well enough to keep the house I’d grown up in. It wasn’t until I got in my truck and took my last look at my childhood home through the windshield of my pickup that I began to cry.
I still drive by from time to time even though it’s not on the way to anything. A nice young couple have it and they have done wonders with it. I really appreciate that.
I enjoyed the memory lane review of the house. Charity and I are in the process of buying our first home. We have always lived in preacher’s houses. There are memories there, but not strong ones because of the feeling that it is never really your home. I really enjoyed this post, it touched me.
http://www.matthewsblog.waynesborochurchofchrist.org
That house like it’s owner, was able to survive a terrible storm. I look at our home in much the same way you looked at yours. If only the walls could talk and relay the sweet memories they contain. Thanks for sharing with us brother.
John
Oh what special memories. Really like that picture.
I remember sitting in the office one day and you telling me about living in the apartment. How you really did not like those 13 steps. :)
I remember being invited to the house one holiday after Daddy passed and I was alone.
I remember coming to your home and crying on Maggy’s and your shoulders.
Wonderful memories. Wonderful, loving friends. I love and miss you. I wish for you more memories in your new home.
Viv
What beautiful thoughts. While bittersweet, I am selfishly thankful for this change and your coming into our lives. I still drive by my old house (childhood home) in Tupelo from time to time with similar memories.
Oh John,
You are like me in ascribing human traits to inanimate objects.
The house will miss you – but it is not sighing and saying ‘why are they leaving…I did my best’. It is saying ‘ I gave you warmth and shelter when you needed it – and you gave me new life when I needed it. Thank you for the fun, the parties, the warm, quiet nights and the love you brought into my four walls. God used me to bless you and you in turn blessed me by your presence. Go with God.’
And yes, that is tear in the corner of the window pane.
John,
We, too, left a house that I had lived in for over 20 years. My kids were 4 & 6 when I bought the house. Three different dogs, one cat, and a few hamsters and gerbils had wandered the halls. It was the only house Cindy ever knew as my wife. We bought a new house last year about 10 miles away. It was very hard to walk out of that old house for the last time knowing I would likely never enter it again. The pencil marks of my kids growing up were still on the wall as I closed the garage door and headed for our new home. My kids are now all grown up – one is 30 and the other just got married. I remember something my daughter once said after my grandmother had departed to be with the Lord – she walked through her old house and observed that it seemed empty with “Ma-maw” gone. It seems houses do “live” in a way – they live while we are in them. And like our bodies, they are just empty shells when the part that is “us” leaves for the new, better bodies. Blessings on your move and your new home, and may your memories of your old home, and of your precious son live on – the new home is just around the corner.
John, just reading up. Glad the house has sold and yet not.
It looks a little different from when I was there. The house was not your home….that will be going with you!!
Love you!
Excellent…!
It’s tough to call a new place home but really – it IS just a house.
I got a little teary in church Sunday as we sang, “…and He’ll take me home…” I pictured the house I left after 20 years.
This world is not my home.
You think the way I do,John.I’m sure the house will miss you and I’m sure it did shed a tear/tears upon your absence.
Andrew and I have been looking for a home to live in for almost 2 years now and when I look upon these homes, I look at some of them knowing that the house wants to be lived in.It’s calling out, please move into me and start a family.
Thank you for your vivid recollections and memories, John.