when is a house, just a house?

You are just a house.

258 John St, Ottawa, ON

Just a house made of bricks, cement and wood. You are not as big a deal as you think you are.  In fact, I live in a very similar house in a different town right now.

Get over yourself!

 
Your ego was inflated when we nicknamed you “The Big House”. So it is partially our fault.  Duly noted.

 
Your only claim to fame is that:

• You gave us a roof over our heads when we uprooted ourselves with much trepidation only to be replanted in the Valley

• You allowed us to tear down some of your walls, rip up your awful red, indoor-outdoor carpet and to remake you into a welcoming place we’d gather for over 30 years of Christmases, Race Weekends, birthdays & summers breaks which always included dozens of drop-in friends and friends of friends and so much laughter!

• You were a key witness to family squabbles, blossoming relationships, occasional selfish acts and innumerable outrageous kindnesses

• You gave us the Bunny Room; a tiny nursery with bunny-filled wallpaper that was used when we were blessed with the incredible births of Hillary and Micaela – turning four siblings into six!

• You gave us beds of rest, a full fridge and a safe place to cry, to laugh inappropriately and plan the funeral service during our two-week, rotating-shift vigil at Ed’s hospital bed

• You invited Grandma to live out her last few decades with us and the memories of her sharp tongue and familiar scowl are all over you

• You were the birthplace of not just one family but of many

• You were Ed’s dream

You were more than just a house, you were a home

 

And I will miss you.

But don’t let it go to your head!

 

8 thoughts on “when is a house, just a house?

  1. I have great memories of the place. And a very sweet Christmas once. And a tumultuous Thanksgiving. And once looking up while walking by to see Mic waving down from the dormer window, and all kinds of funny little memories. And good ones.

    • That’s what’s so special about the place! So many guests have incredible memories, not just the residents. And it was the adopted family members, like you, that helped create those special memories. Who could forget Pastor Bubba? 🙂

  2. Reminds me of being the last family member to walk through the house we all grew up in on the day the deal closed when my Mom had to sell the house… so many memories. <3

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