Every once in a while I drift into nostalgia thinking about places where I once lived and what life was like at the time. These are pleasant memories for me. I think about my family, friends, jobs, neighbors, school etc. When I think about the actual homes, I sometimes wonder if they are the same today as they were when I lived in them. Usually I can find my answers with a few Google and Zillow searches.
My first dream home was the 2nd home we bought. My wife and I had relocated to Florida from Pittsburgh for 3 reasons:
- To be near her kids who were living in Miami with their father.
- I had fantasized about moving to Florida my entire life for the weather.
- My delusion ambitions that I could become a Dotcom millionaire there.
We achieved #1 and #2. The Dotcom implosion followed by 9/11 effectively crushed #3 for me, but I managed to stay afloat after being laid off by joining a cybersecurity startup. In the meantime, we had purchased a 3BR home in a suburb outside of Ft. Lauderdale. It had a wraparound driveway, tile floors, an in-ground pool, lush tropical plants and a basketball hoop! We were 5 miles from the beach and went there every weekend. I loved that house. It was perfect.
My 2nd dream home we bought after returning to Pittsburgh due to my wife’s health issues. At first I hated moving back. I never wanted to leave Florida. But I grew to love the little brick house we bought. It had a massive 3 car garage so I never needed to scrape snow off of the cars. We lived on a flat street just two blocks from a neat little mini downtown area. I quit drinking in that house and made many good friends in AA, some of whom I still have today 20 years later. Our neighbors and street were the friendliest of any place we ever moved. I was sad to when we left that house to relocate back to Florida to be near my wife’s son a few years later after my wife’s daughter died.
My third dream home came several years later. We relocated to Raleigh because I landed a great job there. Having bought and sold 4 homes (and lived in dozens more) we knew what we wanted and what was important to us. Our home was on a cul-de-sac in a quiet, upper middle class tree lined neighborhood. We were a block from a city park and lake. We had a wonderful yard for my wife’s gardening hobby. I had a huge shed which became my gym. Due to finally reaching a level of financial stability, we had the money to repaint the entire interior, replace carpeting with hardwood floors and put in new windows. It was my favorite home we ever owned.
Of course, we left it. Once more, we relocated back to Florida so my wife could be nearer her son. After being in Raleigh for 4 years, the frequent visits to see him that we had expected had not materialized. My wife was getting older. Her son had told her he was thinking about marrying his girlfriend married and having a baby. I had landed a job where I worked remotely. I realized how much my wife missed seeing her son and suggested we could relocate back to Florida. Although she would have stayed in Raleigh without complaint, I did it for her. She was ecstatic.
I regret leaving that home. It was the best place I ever lived.
Less than 2 years after we relocated for the third time to Florida, my wife had died from lung cancer. I tell myself that I gave her the gift of a lifetime – she was able to spend her final years close to her son. She saw him a lot during that time.
Today, my home is perfect for me. Is it my dream home? Not really. There are a few things I miss from my other dream homes. Most of all, I miss my wife and the life we made together.
Looking at pictures of my former “dream homes” replaced the nostalgic pictures in my head with reality. None of them were perfect. Some had crappy kitchens. Several had yards that were far too much to maintain – even with my wife being an avid gardener and us paying for lawn care services. Some rooms were tiny. Driveways were too steep. Some streets were too busy. Others bordered rough areas and were subject to crime.
I already knew that “home” was wherever my wife and I lived together. We were able to make any house our home.
Today I realize that a big part of this was also me. I never needed a perfect dream home. I managed to adjust quite well to wherever we lived. Nothing was perfect, but it was all pretty good.
Kind of like my home and my life today.
Not perfect – but pretty good.
