1 of 34

Write now Article Tools

Page 2 of 2

with the decision of where to live. Would we settle in my relatively new house in the village or move to his older house in the country, a house he was currently renting to another family?

Economics pretty much made up our minds for us. Our combined incomes meant paying maximum interest and kicked the monthly payment up to $237. Even with rental income, we'd just about pay all our bills with nothing left over for improvements or emergencies. Besides that, renting out the country house was proving to be unsatisfactory, so we gave the tenants notice, put my house on the market and moved to the country.

I miss our sunny, unfinished basement, covered with marker drawings. Every visitor we ever had, small and large, was invited to use their imagination and draw on our wall. I still have sweet memories of watching my little boy shout with glee as he jumped off our small back porch into snow drifts several feet high. I remember Christmas morning each of the three years we lived there when we invited in friends, relatives and anyone with no place else to go to join us for an informal holiday brunch. I remember riding my bicycle two miles to work each day, even in the worst winter weather, just because I could; then riding it home again and parking it in the garage next to the car.

Every house, every apartment - every home I've ever lived in - added to my memory bank. That first house, however, was just a bit more special. That was the one that first gave me the right to say: This is mine. The builder's daughter finally owns her own home.

Learn more about this author, Kathleen Richardson.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

• << previous page
• 1
• 2

Add your voice

Know something about Memoirs: Buying my first house?
We want to hear your view. Write now!