Shortly after we married, the hubby and I bought a house in a small town that is smack dab in the middle of Houston. At the time, the neighborhood had grown old. Houses were mostly bungalows with a smattering of two story homes, most of which needed updating. The majority of lots were 50×100.
Along the way something happened. Houston grew and grew making close in property more and more valuable. That meant that in our little town old houses gave way to bulldozers
and were replaced with big new ones.
Surprisingly, the house we lived in for 20 years stayed standing, but last week that changed. Like all the others around it, it came down.
In a matter of minutes it was rubble, and the hubby and I had moments of nostalgia as we looked at the home that held so many memories. The two of us had totally remodeled the house over a five year period. We did all the work except for the sheetrock and floor tile in the space we added. Looking back, we marvel at the energy we had and remember how proud we were of each step forward.
The house may be gone, but what didn’t come down is the sweetgum tree we planted the first year we had the house, and we laughed as we remembered its story. It was to be a birthday surprise, but it was spoiled by the assistant who answered the phone when I called the hubby. “Oh,” she said, “he’s not here. He went to get your tree.” When he came home with it, I tried to act surprised, but laughter overcame me and I had to tell him he had been foiled.
By the time we had kids, the tree had grown enough for it to become the climbing tree for every kid on the block. I can see them now and hear their young voices as they nestled in the limbs. You know, things change, but the memories we hold dear stay with us.
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