Moving

My parents sold the house that I grew up in this afternoon. It didn't come as a surprise - in fact it took several years to sell. It was a big old gorgeous drafty full-of-character Victorian in Flourtown, PA. It was a unique and wonderful house and terrific setting for a home. Three houses down from a state park for day long adventures, yet also just a short walk to stores and part-time jobs in the other direction. Over the years, the house was repaired and improved by my father and transformed into a beautiful showpiece by my mother.

I spent the weekend helping to organize and arrange and pack. My brothers and sister all came, too, and it was wonderful to be all together. It was actually kind of nice to be there without spouses and children, just the four of us again. Lots of good stories and memories and a whole truckload of feelings that we all worked very hard to mash down so we could get done what had to be done.

I wrote about the move, and submitted it to Six Sentences. Not only was it accepted, but the blog owner was kind enough to post it today, the day they sold the house they bought 36 years ago.



photo by peter gregorio