Day 73: When Bad Things Happen to Good Houses

I want to live in a world where people protect their property. Where bad things can't happen to good houses.


We've been spending much of our time together looking at real estate.  Throughout the week we browse various realtor websites looking for new or lower priced homes.  And then on days like Saturday, when we have a few hours to spare, we map a loop and check out different homes- many of which are abandoned.  We peek in windows and scoot around the property and mostly end up dissapointed.  But my heart just broke this Saturday. It was a smallish home on nearly two acres.  We'd been glancing at it online for weeks now and decided to see in person why the house was unusually inexpensive and had no inside pictures.  

At first I thought the shards of glass were ice.  But every window was smashed and we crunched along the porch, kicking away the glass and snow.  Inside I could see wide pine hardwood floors- bright wood now spotted with spray paint, the ceilings and walls decorated in bright pink graphitti.  And odor, something metallic and sour permeated the air.  Through the busted windows I saw the kitchen- exposed brick and dark wood.  It didn't take much imagination to see this home as a cozy place.  There was moulding around the door frames and a solid rack with an intricate carved pattern hung above an island.  But the walls were splashed with nasty phrases and there was a hole the size of a soccer ball, straight through the back door. The stairs leading to the second floor were ripped apart. Solid wood lay in a heap where the skeleton of stairs lead up.  Rich shook his head in disbelief as he picked his way through the glass back to the car.   And for a moment I stood facing this destroyed beauitful home until I started to cry.  

And of course it's ridiculous that I should feel so attached to a building that was never mine.  But the home was violated, defaced and I felt embarrassed for how it was left so vulnerable.   I wanted to know who cared so little about their property that they left it exposed to the elements and whoever happened to wander by with a crowbar and a can of spray paint.  I suggested we buy it just to take care of it.  But Rich is right, we can't purchase a home because we feel bad for it.  We need to buy the place that is right for us.  So we'll keep driving and looking and waiting.  And just like love and children, we'll hold out for what's meant to be.  And when we have a house of our own- a family of our own, we'll protect them.  This I know.