Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Then and now...

I googled my childhood home yesterday, the one we moved to when I was 4 years old, the one my parents paid less than $12,000 for.

It last sold for just under ONE MILLION dollars.

My first thoughts were of my mother, as I looked at the realtors pictures of what the inside looks like now, and saw a huge granite and stainless steel gourmet kitchen. I thought of her and wondered what she would say if she could see it today. It made me sad in a way, sad that she didn't have the latest in high tech beauty all around her, she sure deserved it. 

Right on the heels of those thoughts were... so what? 

My mother was as happy as a lark in that kitchen. She cooked and baked for her family and so many others, and there was real joy in that room. There was lots of laughing, singing, some squabbling among the kids, and always delicious scents and the promise of good food coming. It was a room filled with love. I only hope that the ones who live there now are as happy.

All 5 of us shared one small bathroom. The bathrooms they have created look like spas. We had a huge backyard. There are now french doors leading to multiple decks with hot tub and all the landscaping surrounding it. It's a showplace!

My dad and brother took such good care of our backyard. We had flowers everywhere, and blooming fruit trees year around. We buried at least 2 guinea pigs named Squeaky 1 and Squeaky 2 in that yard. We hid the soft red 'spanking stick' from my dad, back there by the squeakey's.  He found it and dug it right back up!

I'm left with all the memories we made in that home, and a few walls that I still recognize. But oh my goodness... that small home has filled my heart for all of these years since. 


270 South Parkwood may be a California dream bungalow, but never did it shine better than when OUR family lived there.


9 comments:

Farm Girl said...

I imagine is is still loved that house. I think the picture you published the house is so pretty.
A man next door bought the land and house that I lived in growing up. For two weeks, I have watched as he has tore down everything that my childhood was wrapped up in.
I admit to crying sometimes as the heavy equipment tears out trees and the horse pens my Dad built and I have to keep my mind, firmly in the present. It is a war sometimes to keep my mind stayed. To keep quoting verses about pressing forward to that upward call of Jesus.
Sometimes I think it is being homesick. Then I think, I am closer to heaven than I was yesterday. We never stop missing them do we?
How are you doing in all of this rain?

Vee said...

How interesting! John's childhood home was a farm of 165 acres and now is a beautiful housing development with 500,000 homes. He can hardly recognize the pastures and the creek. I read this to him and he and I both enjoyed your trip down Memory Lane. I don't imagine that your family could have been any happier in your charming childhood home, though I imagine an extra bathroom would have been a blessing. =D

Debbie said...

How wonderful that there is such a thing as google and you are able to SEE what that this house looks like today, and remember all those precious memories your family made there. They do live on in our hearts don't they? Sooo enjoyed this! Have a good week!

Sharon said...

Oh I just loved this!! Not too long ago, I also googled a childhood home that held very special memories. It was worth over a million dollars, too! Amazing, huh?! The house wasn't for sale, so I didn't have a chance to peek inside, but I was pleased to see that the outside remained much the same. A couple of years ago, I took my mom and dad on a drive to where my dad had lived at the beach. On our way home, we stopped at the tiny rental where they brought me home from the hospital after I was born. Well, we met the people who lived there, and had a chance to go inside. Linked arm-to-arm with my mom, she reminisced about those first few days and weeks with me. And nothing had changed in that house! So precious.

Home is truly where the heart is - and though I have some wonderful memories of homes past, it's my future home in heaven that captivates me the most!!

GOD BLESS!

Saleslady371 said...

Such a beautiful message straight from your heart, Sonja! We kids googled our family home also years ago and it really brings back the memories of our childhoods! Love the story of burying the spanking stick! Oh, that's priceless!

Love,
Mary

Sassy Granny ... said...

I drive by my childhood home from time-to-time, and I'm always stunned when I do. It much smaller than I recall. The yard looks nothing like it did when my parents labored over flower beds, grass, a vegetable garden, and several fruit trees. Even the white picket fence has long since been gone. Like you, I cherish the life we lived there long ago. You do your parents proud, Sonja. I loved this!

Debbie Petras said...

It goes to show that with love a house becomes a home. It is fun though to see what others have done to our childhood homes. I have returned to mine and even knocked on the door. The owners permitted my brother and me to walk through the house. It was kind of sad as there were changes and yet there were good memories too. Isn't it amazing how high the prices have gone up in real estate? I think my dad purchased our home for about $15,000 in 1961.

Love you,
Debbie

Lea said...

Well, we moved so, so many times that I didn't really have a childhood home but we are about to move from our children's childhood home. I wish that I could say it's going to sell for way more than we paid for it 34 years ago but I don't imagine it will. Our area has such a depressed real estate. But, I do pray that a family will buy it and have as many wonderful memories here as we have had. There's just no place like "home."

Marsha Young said...

Sonja,
It looks likes you were very blessed with where you got to grow up. Although I do have granite counter tops, I agree with you that our mothers did some wonderful things with not even half of the high-tech gadgets we have today.

Great pictures of "then and now" - blessings to you - Marsha