Selling the Family Home

My parents just moved. They had lived there for almost fifty years; it was the house I moved into at ten years old and the place my wife and children know as the “family” home. This is a significant and challenging transition for my parents. 

People ask me if I will miss the house. I guess I will. However, I have mountains of photos and more video of events in that house than anyone could ever view. More than that, I have real memories of the people I love gathering at that house. Those memories aren’t staying in the house. I will still have them. 

It was time for my folks to have a home without stairs. It is a wonderful bonus to have a home where someone else takes care of the roof, basement, landscaping, snow removal, and all those homeowners’ tasks that age you. It is great that my parents are moving into a smaller home in a retirement community where they can, should they choose, take their meals in the community restaurant. They will finally be able to enjoy all the good parts of homeownership and turn over the burdens to someone else. 

But not me! This is another reason that I am not feeling sentimental about the loss of my childhood home. My parents’ move makes their lives much better – and it enhances mine as well. They are moving closer to me, but it is far more than that. They are moving into a community with plenty of support for them as they age. Many of the issues I have seen friends face with their parents: moving into a care facility, caregivers, living independently, loss of driving, and many others will be considerably softened by their choice of location. In a very real sense, their move is a gift to the entire family. It makes helping them age well easier, safer, and more reasonable. It preserves their independence and mine. 

I spent some time gathering photos of the “old” house. I waxed nostalgic about my grandparents and many others who are no longer with us and spent so much time there. I took lots of photos before and during the sale of the house and during the move itself. I have not been at that house in more than a week, but like lots of figures who are no longer part of our lives, that house will always be with us. 

Perhaps I am fooling myself. Perhaps, after the new owners move in, I will feel differently. I doubt it – because this was never about a house or a place. I didn’t go to “the house,” I went to be with my folks. Yes, the house was a great place to gather, but we have other places that will work just as well. The house was important because of the people who lived in it. I will enjoy the new house and my folks’ new community for those same reasons.  

I would be remiss if I didn’t also note how grateful I am for the lessons I am learning in this process. My parents moved in their mid-eighties. My wife and I have talked about making this move a decade earlier. My parents, in this and in many other ways, are modeling thoughtful and graceful aging. I am taking notes. It is my sincere wish that they will be our elder guides for many years to come. 

Twenty Years Ago: August 2003

August 2003 was an exhausting mix of summer and school. It was a swirl of family activity, classroom setup, travel, home improvement, socializing, celebrating, and dog drama. I don’t blame any reader who looks at this piece and says, there is no way all of that occurred in the month before school starts. I found it difficult to believe myself. 

This was a very social month! We got together with ten families (one at a time). We went to the Museum of Science and Industry, the Hancock Building, Illinois Railway Museum, Arlington Park, and the Planetarium. Without the kids, we went to the movies and saw the Broadway touring company of Mama Mia. We had dinner with our dear friend, Dorothy. 

We celebrated my mother’s 65th birthday with a big party at the Chicago Botanical Garden. My brother and his family came in for the event which was held in the garden’s pavilion. It was a fantastic evening. I toasted/roasted my mother with a fun ode in her honor. 

My folks, my wife’s aunt, and the four of us took a trip to the Wisconsin Dells. We took two cars and made a stop in Madison where my parents went to college. We stayed at the Wilderness Lodge, rode the indoor and outdoor water slides, took our “dam pictures” on the Ducks, played miniature golf, got an old-time photo, and saw the obligatory water show at Tommy Bartlett’s. When I got home, I started plans to visit my cousin in Florida for spring break. 

The dog continued to need plenty of attention. I became the sole person to give him shots. He continued to have overnight accidents and thus was crated in the evenings. He was angry with me about that. He developed a sore on his cheek. We moved to a vet who was nearby rather than schlepping all the way down to Wilmette. The dog stayed at our new vet’s boarding kennel while we were at the Dells. 

Home projects continued. We finished replacing both the roof and the siding on the house. We also replaced all the gutters. Of course, it rained as we replaced the roof. The banging above my head was both headache-inducing and shook the house such that things fell off shelves in every bedroom. We replaced and repaired ceiling fans, 

On the school front, I had a workshop with my new teaching team. I prepared my classroom and spent a ton of time at school. I made copies of handouts, sent and prepared emails, created decorations, and made name plates and other welcome materials. I had dinner with the Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity (SEED) group. 

“I did some work at school and got there just after 11. I stayed until just after 3! That place is a black hole. I didn’t have a ton on my list but I did this and that and the time vanished. It took me more than an hour to send all of my e-mail letters from last year.”

Meanwhile, I was still taking adult Hebrew lessons, scheduling field trips to various houses of worship for my Sunday school class, and organizing the congregation’s Friday night services for the upcoming year. And in August, rehearsals for the High Holiday choir started. 

Sometimes, I wrote in my journal that I was overwhelmed, “I feel at odds and ends, unsettled. I don’t know if it is the approach of school, the lack of structure right now for this family, Sunday School field trips, Friday night services. There are a lot of balls up in the air. I worked on lots of this and that today, but I don’t feel like I put any of it to rest. Yes, I got two small tasks off the list but the big ones remain, and GROW! Each task gives birth to a new one once accomplished! I find myself blocking and wanting to NOT do some of this stuff.”

But at other times, I am just rolling with the coaster, “It is amazing the difference a day makes. I spent the morning in school today and got a ton done. Handouts are ready for the first day. I gave the policy packets to Jean’e and worked on the Power Reading word games. I finished the room signs and gave them to Debbie to laminate. My desk is all set up and I am ready to start decorating the room. If I spend a few hours tomorrow, I’ll be in great shape! The only thing that is not EXACTLY there are humanities lesson plans and those must be done collectively. Friday night services are coming along, I’ve made a variety of calls for Sunday School; I will just need to follow up. I have an appointment to take Q to meet with the camp lady too! All my projects are on the burners and cooking nicely.”

Thank goodness those Augusts are behind me! 

Twenty Five Years In Our Home

I had to convince my wife that this was the house for us. She liked modern architecture with open floor plans and this house was a typical colonial. But, it had the right number of bedrooms, the space we needed to expand our little family, and was at the very top of our price range, and had all of our school first choices! It was very well kept and would make a wonderful home for us.

I remember our final walk-through before closing; we met the seller and his son, an English teacher at Lane Tech High School in Chicago (He later became my colleague and friend when we hired him to teach at his alma mater). The seller showed us where everything was and how they worked. He was gracious and helpful. We were overwhelmed and a little frightened. We had struggled to sell our old home. We had to move in the summer because since we were educators, moving during the school year was unthinkable. 

Oh, yeah. The local high school was in the backyard. This house backed up to our school, the one at which we worked. We weren’t just moving closer to work, we were practically moving in. We understood what work from home meant twenty-five years ago. 

We both spent way too many hours at school. My average day was eleven or twelve hours and my wife could compete with that many times during the year. So a shorter commune would be a good thing, even if it was just turning a seven-minute drive into a five-minute walk.    

We were already used to teaching and working in the same community. We tried to be graceful at the grocery store when parents wanted to do business. “We’re off duty,” we’d demur. “I can’t remember the specifics, call me at school,” I’d reply. Our students were startled when they saw us around town. High school students still don’t really believe that their teachers have lives outside of the classroom. Well, this new house would practically be living in a file cabinet drawer, just bigger. 

A lot bigger. Our new house was much larger than the little one we had moved into after we got married. We loved our first house, but if we were going to have another child, we needed more space. When one of my former students found out where we were moving, he said to me, “Oh, Mr. Hirsch, you’re not the North Trail type.” 

He couldn’t explain to me what the North Trail type was and, as we got to know our neighbors, we couldn’t either. We already met several sets of neighbors because we taught their children. Yet, our neighbors immediately across the street never came out or said hello or acknowledged us ever – not even when they moved. Others were very warm and came over and introduced themselves. 

Within a few months, there were several other new families nearby and our two-year-old made new friends as we all walked to school together: she went to the school daycare and preschool! We shared the great commute. 

After a year or two, I started a neighborhood newsletter. This was when a newsletter meant photocopies, envelopes, and hand distribution. At almost the same time, a neighbor initiated a renaissance of the homeowners association and we combined our efforts. While there had been a homeowners association, it had gone fallow. Now there was only a person paying landscapers to keep the common areas from looking too shabby from a checking account that was rapidly being depleted. 

So I took on the role of secretary in those pre-email days and we recruited a few others to help us. Most of those folks are still working together, but that is going to change soon. We had little kids, all of whom are in college or out of college. 

Now, we are empty nesters. The two of us live by ourselves in this house. When we retired, the most common question was, “When are you going to move?” We are not. This house still works wonderfully for us. When the kids came home during the pandemic, we were so grateful for the space. I transformed my daughter’s room into a combination office and entertainment room. My daughter calls it my man cave and I call it my ready room. 

While I could see why someone might downsize, I am optimistic that this house will work for us for another decade or so. For all the changes we have experienced as a family, this house still fits us, twenty-five years later.