Dear Childhood home,
Hey you! I haven't slept under your roof in 2 years. It seems like forever. I miss you. I miss your fireplace, the divot in the 6th step up, and the view of the valley behind you. I miss your convenience, your warmth and the cozy kitchen. I miss your quiet street, your loving neighbors and the laughter echoing off the walls. My parents designed you, my grandfathers built you. Their hands built those stairs, trimmed those walls and laid the brick hearth. You are worth 4 times what my parents paid to build you. You are in one of the most valued areas in the state. This is all great and many people look at you as an investment. I see the sentimental value and beauty of you.
I have been looking for a house for about 8 months now. I have seen many, some old and some new. None of them felt right. None of them felt like a home like you did. I was losing hope. Then daddy called. He wants to move. I was devastated. You were perfect. Why would he want to leave? But then I learned he wants his future grand-kids to feel your warmth. He wants a change, but he wants the house to stay in the family! He offered you to me for a steal! Can you believe our luck? The hubby and I are discussing it this weekend. It's a little more than our budget, but we feel you are worth it. I hope and pray things work out. I will budget like a beast. Maybe we will be back together soon.