Homeless, sort of

Published 12:00 am Monday, July 3, 2006

Well, it’s official.

I’m going to be homeless.

OK, not exactly homeless, but the house I grew up in has been sold, and my parents have found a new one. It all happened a lot faster than I expected.


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I write this column from my house – I’m in town to help host a friend’s wedding shower – and this will be the last time I stay here.

It’s a little hard to believe.

But I’m finding there are pros and cons to this situation. First, the pros:

The house my parents bought is twice the size of our old house. That means it will comfortably hold our core family of seven, plus spouses and children. That’ll be a first!

The house has a doggie door and fenced-in yard. That means that my dog, the baby brother I never had, will be able to come and go as he pleases, and run around on his own without a leash. He won’t know what to do with himself. Sure, he’d get to run around the woods here every so often, but we could never let him do it on a regular basis because he has a habit of heading toward the road, not to mention rooting out and killing possums.

The house has a huge finished basement. That means my dad will finally have the game room he has always wanted. Pool table, ping pong table, darts. He won’t know what to do with himself.

The new house is just that – new. And nice. That means that my mom will finally have the beautiful floors, walls, windows, everything that she deserves. Not that our old house wasn’t nice, but it was just that, old. Run down and in need of a major makeover.

The new house has a hot tub. That means…well, it’s obvious what that means.

Our neighbors of many, many years are the purchasers of our old house. That means, first of all, that we know our old home will be well cared for. It also means that if we get terribly sentimental, they will welcome us in to visit the place.

The new house is actually right outside a city with an airport. That means I will no longer have to drive 45 minutes to an hour just to get to my house once I fly in. Now it’ll be more like a 20 minute drive. Brilliant.

Now for the cons:

The new house is actually in Kentucky, right across the river from Cincinnati. That means my parents will become Kentuckians. When you grow up on the Ohio side of the Ohio River, you know why that’s a bad thing. So long as their blood continues to run scarlet red, we’ll be OK. None of that blue stuff.

The new house is two and a half hours away from my hometown. Most of my husband’s family is still in our hometown. That means we’ll become one of those couples that fights over where to go on holidays. Not that we don’t like each other’s families. We just want to spend as much time as possible with our own.

The new house will make more than just holiday visits difficult. Most of our good friends we grew up with are still in our hometown. So I’m afraid that with every visit to Ohio I’ll feel somewhat guilty. If I go to Cincy, folks in Ironton will be disappointed, and vice versa.

Well, seven to three. It’s obvious that this move will be, overall, a good thing. And you might have picked up on it – that I’m actually getting excited about it. Sure, I’m still getting a lump in my throat as I sit here, looking around the house I spent nearly 20 years in, but I know that change can be fun, too.