My parents built their dream house.
A smaller home in the woods. Surrounded by trails and bulrushes – and black bears.
Which means they sold their house and acreage on Highway 68. The acreage even had its own business name, “Karatchuk Acres.”
On September 30th, mom and dad went to their former home. One last time before the new owners took possession. They walked around the yards, reminiscing, taking photos. Sending selfies with, “Saying goodbye.” When my dad was ten months old, he moved to that acreage. My mom, since she was seventeen, and the three of us girls since birth.
Everything went with the sale. The front garden, flowerbeds, the apple trees. Sheds, garages, and silos. The red-weathered barn at the end of the driveway.
With the sale also went a huge west yard where my first childhood home stood. In 1985, my parents sold our 600 sq.ft. house and we relocated to my late paternal grandparents house on the same acreage. The little house was lifted from the foundation, set onto a moving trailer, and transported to Eriksdale, Manitoba and its new owners.
But this is different.
When I visit my parents, I’ll see my second house and the acreage. My preteen and cusp of adulthood home. But from the outside – and afar.Continue reading “When You Sell a House, You Keep the Memories”