GreenwithEnvy
10-22-2006, 07:55 PM
Okay, next week, my grandmother is moving out of her house and going to live out of state. She's lived in the current house since the 50's...and my pap (who died three years ago) built the house...and her moving is very emotional for me and i really don't want to see anyone else living in it...but until i can buy the house for myself, so be it...anyway, i am thinking of leaving behind a sort of 'letter' to the new owners of the house...like stuffing it in some crevice in the attic so they won't find it immediately or something. (I got this idea from that show on HGTV 'If Walls Could Talk.') I guess I just want this new family to know how important this house was and what the history of it is...so here's the letter...you don't have to read the whole, emotional, sappy thing but...just give your opinions on what you think a/b leaving this 'letter' behind and all...
To the new owners of this house,
I know that this is just a house to you and your family, and while I’m sure that you will do everything possible to make it into your own home, I want to make sure that you know the history that goes along with it. As I said before, the home was built in 1958 by my grandfather, John. When he bought the land, it was a swamp. By 1959, my grandparents, oldest aunt, and mother were occupying their new home. In the years to follow, three more children would be born to my grandparents. Decades later, eight grandchildren would extend the family and add the the memories that our large, extended family have experienced in this home.
I hope you enjoy the unique, ‘block U’ shape of the house. Please know that dozens of children have spent their days running literally around the house, chasing each other on good terms and bad. Please know that the wall facing the middle bedroom once held collage picture frames displaying our memories from Christmases, birthdays, summers, and weddings. Please know that the back bedroom once housed a roll top desk that my uncle hand crafted. Please know that the women of the family dressed, did their makeup, and curled their hair in these rooms for multiple weddings. Please know that the ceiling of the front bedroom was once painted with red and white stripes because my mother and her sisters wanted to make their bedroom an American flag theme in 1976 – they never got to painting the walls blue with stars.
Please know that the kitchen was always packed with more people than it could comfortably hold – yet we refused to overflow into the dining room or living room. Please know that my grandmother was an exceptional cook, and it was always said that the men who married into the family gained thirty pounds the first year of their marriage. Please know that even if someone wasn’t hungry or looking for food, they’d find themselves eating something in Gram’s kitchen. Please know that she never followed recipes or measured ingredients. Please know that my Pap always did the dinner dishes. Please know that my Pap always cleaned the windows of the house and somehow managed to not leave any streaks. Please know that the dining room was packed with dozens of people for every single Thanksgiving and Christmas. Please know that the Christmas tree was almost always situated in front of the huge picture window of the living room and that its lights always shone through for people outside to see. Please know that our Christmas trees have always been real and have always been chopped down by my Pap.
Please know that there was a coy fish pond in the backyard, and I remember the men in my family digging it when I was about seven years old. Please know that we used to sit outside on the back porch when it thunderstormed and listen to the rain pounding on the roof. Please know that dozens and dozens of golf balls, baseballs, and toy trucks have been found in the gutter behind the porch – courtesy of my uncle or oldest cousin. Please know that the kitchen window had been broken for a number of years thanks to my cousin playing with a bee-bee gun. Please know that that same cousin fell out of the huge Hemlock tree one summer. Please know that my sister, cousins, and I have played with sidewalk chalk on the path leading up to the house. Please know that one summer, my Grandmother’s white and gray cat laid in a spot of that blue chalk and had blue fur that day. Please know that the driveway wasn’t always paved – it was once covered in small, white ‘lucky’ stones that we used to walk across barefoot. Please know that the garage door wasn’t always automatic – my Pap once got bonked on the head with it when he wrongly thought it was up all the way. We used to tease him about the scar that could easily be seen atop his buzz cut head.
And when you complain about cutting the grass of the huge yard and the even bigger hill, please know that that yard and that hill were the stages for countless toboggan rides, Slip ‘n’ Slide adventures, Easter Egg hunts, swing set fun, and swimming pool use in the 70’s. Please know that there was a garden here, and a pretty big and productive one at that. Please know that my Pap and my aunt worked very hard on this garden, and my Pap always had a falling out with the groundhog that used to terrorize it. Please know that there was once a pear tree in the center of the yard, and we used to pull the pears off and eat them right there. Please know that there was also an apple tree closer to the street and that’s where that many of the grandchildren learned to climb trees. Please know that we would rake that tree’s leaves in the fall and then jump into the pile once we were finished. Please know that many nights were spent in both the front in backyards in tents.
Please know that the basement used to have a bar. Please know that Pap always reminded us to ‘clean out that lint trap’ when we’d change laundry. Please know that we always used the fireplace in the winter and even roasted marshmellows and popped popcorn the old fashioned way. Please know that the grandchildren always attempted to climb the white pole in the middle of the room. Please know that the grandchildren were always terrified of the fruit cellar that eventually became my Pap’s tool storage. Please know that this basement and the garage (and the rest of the house) were home to the many, many, many antiques my Pap would bring home from flea markets. He’d visit them almost every weekend, and every once in awhile, he’d discover something that was worth some money.
Please know that my Pap built this house with his own two hands. He raised his family here. He came home to this house after working long days at the steel mill. He watched his children grow up and move out here. He watched his grandchildren come into the world and couldn’t wait to teach us to crawl when we were babies. He teased us mercilessly by popping out his false teeth, telling us ‘bull sh**’ stories, and pretending that there were always bugs or snakes nearby. Personally, whenever he’d tease me about boys, he’d bring up this fake boyfriend he invented whose name was Rufus. My Pap gave good advice all the time, but his best advice was the phrase he would use whenever something unfortunate would happen to someone. He’d say, “If that’s the worst thing that ever happens to you, you’ll be alright.” Please know that he’d often doze off on the couch and the only way my grandmother could wake him was by calling out his Slovak name.
Please know that my Pap died in this house three days before his seventieth birthday. He had cancer. Please know that I came to see him in my cap and gown on my graduation day because he was too sick to come to the commencement. Please know that I also came to see him in my prom dress. He hugged me and told me that I looked more beautiful than he ever imagined I would be.
That was in June of 2003. In the years that have passed since my Pap died, many things have changed in my family. My grandma has a dog named Daisy who now occupies the middle bedroom – we all tease her because we never thought she’d be the type of person to own a dog, let alone treat it like a princess. Please know that this is her only constant companion since her husband passed away. Please know that she keeps a framed picture of herself and my Pap that was taken a mere month or so before he died. She placed a note card in the corner of the frame that reads, ‘til we meet again.’
I know that this is your house now, and you are free to do with it whatever you wish. But however you may alter it, please keep in mind the man that built it as a house, and the family that built it as a home. I can only hope that you and your family will have the same cherished memories here that my family and I have experienced.
To the new owners of this house,
I know that this is just a house to you and your family, and while I’m sure that you will do everything possible to make it into your own home, I want to make sure that you know the history that goes along with it. As I said before, the home was built in 1958 by my grandfather, John. When he bought the land, it was a swamp. By 1959, my grandparents, oldest aunt, and mother were occupying their new home. In the years to follow, three more children would be born to my grandparents. Decades later, eight grandchildren would extend the family and add the the memories that our large, extended family have experienced in this home.
I hope you enjoy the unique, ‘block U’ shape of the house. Please know that dozens of children have spent their days running literally around the house, chasing each other on good terms and bad. Please know that the wall facing the middle bedroom once held collage picture frames displaying our memories from Christmases, birthdays, summers, and weddings. Please know that the back bedroom once housed a roll top desk that my uncle hand crafted. Please know that the women of the family dressed, did their makeup, and curled their hair in these rooms for multiple weddings. Please know that the ceiling of the front bedroom was once painted with red and white stripes because my mother and her sisters wanted to make their bedroom an American flag theme in 1976 – they never got to painting the walls blue with stars.
Please know that the kitchen was always packed with more people than it could comfortably hold – yet we refused to overflow into the dining room or living room. Please know that my grandmother was an exceptional cook, and it was always said that the men who married into the family gained thirty pounds the first year of their marriage. Please know that even if someone wasn’t hungry or looking for food, they’d find themselves eating something in Gram’s kitchen. Please know that she never followed recipes or measured ingredients. Please know that my Pap always did the dinner dishes. Please know that my Pap always cleaned the windows of the house and somehow managed to not leave any streaks. Please know that the dining room was packed with dozens of people for every single Thanksgiving and Christmas. Please know that the Christmas tree was almost always situated in front of the huge picture window of the living room and that its lights always shone through for people outside to see. Please know that our Christmas trees have always been real and have always been chopped down by my Pap.
Please know that there was a coy fish pond in the backyard, and I remember the men in my family digging it when I was about seven years old. Please know that we used to sit outside on the back porch when it thunderstormed and listen to the rain pounding on the roof. Please know that dozens and dozens of golf balls, baseballs, and toy trucks have been found in the gutter behind the porch – courtesy of my uncle or oldest cousin. Please know that the kitchen window had been broken for a number of years thanks to my cousin playing with a bee-bee gun. Please know that that same cousin fell out of the huge Hemlock tree one summer. Please know that my sister, cousins, and I have played with sidewalk chalk on the path leading up to the house. Please know that one summer, my Grandmother’s white and gray cat laid in a spot of that blue chalk and had blue fur that day. Please know that the driveway wasn’t always paved – it was once covered in small, white ‘lucky’ stones that we used to walk across barefoot. Please know that the garage door wasn’t always automatic – my Pap once got bonked on the head with it when he wrongly thought it was up all the way. We used to tease him about the scar that could easily be seen atop his buzz cut head.
And when you complain about cutting the grass of the huge yard and the even bigger hill, please know that that yard and that hill were the stages for countless toboggan rides, Slip ‘n’ Slide adventures, Easter Egg hunts, swing set fun, and swimming pool use in the 70’s. Please know that there was a garden here, and a pretty big and productive one at that. Please know that my Pap and my aunt worked very hard on this garden, and my Pap always had a falling out with the groundhog that used to terrorize it. Please know that there was once a pear tree in the center of the yard, and we used to pull the pears off and eat them right there. Please know that there was also an apple tree closer to the street and that’s where that many of the grandchildren learned to climb trees. Please know that we would rake that tree’s leaves in the fall and then jump into the pile once we were finished. Please know that many nights were spent in both the front in backyards in tents.
Please know that the basement used to have a bar. Please know that Pap always reminded us to ‘clean out that lint trap’ when we’d change laundry. Please know that we always used the fireplace in the winter and even roasted marshmellows and popped popcorn the old fashioned way. Please know that the grandchildren always attempted to climb the white pole in the middle of the room. Please know that the grandchildren were always terrified of the fruit cellar that eventually became my Pap’s tool storage. Please know that this basement and the garage (and the rest of the house) were home to the many, many, many antiques my Pap would bring home from flea markets. He’d visit them almost every weekend, and every once in awhile, he’d discover something that was worth some money.
Please know that my Pap built this house with his own two hands. He raised his family here. He came home to this house after working long days at the steel mill. He watched his children grow up and move out here. He watched his grandchildren come into the world and couldn’t wait to teach us to crawl when we were babies. He teased us mercilessly by popping out his false teeth, telling us ‘bull sh**’ stories, and pretending that there were always bugs or snakes nearby. Personally, whenever he’d tease me about boys, he’d bring up this fake boyfriend he invented whose name was Rufus. My Pap gave good advice all the time, but his best advice was the phrase he would use whenever something unfortunate would happen to someone. He’d say, “If that’s the worst thing that ever happens to you, you’ll be alright.” Please know that he’d often doze off on the couch and the only way my grandmother could wake him was by calling out his Slovak name.
Please know that my Pap died in this house three days before his seventieth birthday. He had cancer. Please know that I came to see him in my cap and gown on my graduation day because he was too sick to come to the commencement. Please know that I also came to see him in my prom dress. He hugged me and told me that I looked more beautiful than he ever imagined I would be.
That was in June of 2003. In the years that have passed since my Pap died, many things have changed in my family. My grandma has a dog named Daisy who now occupies the middle bedroom – we all tease her because we never thought she’d be the type of person to own a dog, let alone treat it like a princess. Please know that this is her only constant companion since her husband passed away. Please know that she keeps a framed picture of herself and my Pap that was taken a mere month or so before he died. She placed a note card in the corner of the frame that reads, ‘til we meet again.’
I know that this is your house now, and you are free to do with it whatever you wish. But however you may alter it, please keep in mind the man that built it as a house, and the family that built it as a home. I can only hope that you and your family will have the same cherished memories here that my family and I have experienced.