I am a photographer and a mother. My husband Dave builds big houses. Really big, multi million dollar custom masterpieces. They are spectacular.
I know, I lived in one for ten years.
It was classically built. Graceful and elegant. The perfect balance of impressive and livable.
We raised our kids there. It was a lot of of fun.
But then this happened.
And finally this.
It was clear to me that an important chapter of my life was coming an end whether I liked it or not. This was emotional turmoil for me. The joy of watching my children launch successfully into adulthood was squelched by the knowledge that my role in their lives would, appropriately, start to diminish.
And suddenly the house felt really big and empty. And the mortgage seemed obscene.
So what to do? Should we build another new house? A smaller version of the one we had? A kind of “dream house lite”? That seemed like a let down. No, new was not going to work. We needed something different; something that was exciting to us. When my kids were considering their careers, I always asked them “What classes are you excited about going to every day?” And then I remembered as a little girl getting excited every time I toured an old house or walked around a historic district. My father used to dream about buying a neglected old house and bringing it back to life. He never got that chance. My husband has a Bachelors degree in Building Science and 30 years of experience. What was stopping us?
So we sold the big new house and started renovating.