That old house was really home

I have seen so many houses like this before:

The house has a good flow, good light, quality fixtures. Everything works. But, nothing has been updated since the early 1970s, unless it broke.

In the kitchen: There’s a high-quality stainless steel stove, circa 1960. The cabinets are simple oak. The counters are white Formica. The floor is sheet vinyl. The refrigerator is about three years old, replaced when the gold one died.

The dining room is paneled. The social area and the downstairs bedrooms have beige carpet and neutral-colored painted walls. The upstairs bedrooms have sheet vinyl flooring and painted walls. There is only one full bathroom. The poor thing has maroon and grey tile; at least the tub, sink and toilet are white. There is a half bath, long abandoned, in the corner of the family room in the basement.

There are replacement windows on the north side, including a picture window in the living room. The master bedroom also has replaced windows. The heating system gave up the ghost a couple of years ago and was replaced with a modern furnace with central air conditioning. 

This house hosted family events from 1967 until 2012. The dining room was filled every Thanksgiving and Passover. Anniversary parties, birthday parties and other random family events were held in the back yard. How do I know that? Because I was there. 

My FaceBook profile picture was taken there this Thanksgiving. See the paneling?

 

When I look at this house as a niece, I see the family home of Selma and Jack Rosen. It was the best family space I ever enjoyed. I have almost entirely fond memories of my time there. When I look at it through the eyes of a buyer’s agent, I want to roll those eyes. It is what I call “a little old lady special.”

I see this kind of property for sale all the time. This one is personal. It is interesting to me to see how little any of us cared that the dining room was paneled. Frankly, I didn’t even notice until I said farewell to the house last week.  It only goes to show that a house is the walls and a home is the living that happens in it.

Rest in Peace. Selma Rosen 1915-2012. Jacob Rosen 1912-1994.