learning to let go of what is out of my control
My grandparents are selling their house.
It may sound small, but this is devastating to me. I love that house. I grew up in that house. My entire life, I’ve always considered it my second home. It’s always felt like just as much my home as my actual home is. When I was a kid, the days of the week where I got to go to my grandparents’ house after school was something I looked forward to. When I was a teenager, I still enjoyed getting to sleep the night there; it felt like a mini holiday. Even now, as an adult, I love visiting every Wednesday. Every corner of that house is steeped in memories throughout every era of my life.
Yes, it’s an old house. In fact, it’s over 100 years old (it’s been renovated since then, but still). I usually tend to get creeped out over old places, however in this case, I think the age is part of its charm. I love the high ceilings, the arched door frame in the hallway, the stained glass windows above the front door. I love the old-fashioned light switches and the ornate door knobs. I despise modern interior design. There’s something so cold and lifeless about the lack of colour and the “minimalism.” When I look at the details of my grandparents’ house, no matter how old it is, I’m reminded of how lacking in personality modern houses are.
In case you haven’t already pieced this together, I’m someone who gets easily attached to inanimate things. I was the kid who treated their teddy bears like they had feelings. I’m not the sort of person who can easily let go of things; under my bed is a treasure chest of memories — old school books, my favourite childhood toys, novels that are falling apart but I can’t bear to part with. Is this an unhealthy personality trait? Probably. But I’ve always been this way. Nostalgia is a trap I constantly fall victim to. As someone who has essentially lived in the same house for as long as I can remember, I’ve never experienced saying goodbye to a home before.
I’m also someone who hates change. I’ve never adapted well to change in any way, shape, or form. I love routine; I love when things are familiar. Any change, even positive change, is always scary and stress-inducing to me. In saying this, it’s probably not a surprise that I’m something of a control freak. Admittedly, I like when things are in my control. Because in that control comes a stronger guarantee of certainty and familiarity. My grandparents have been talking about moving for years, and in those years, I have done everything in my power to convince them otherwise. Obviously, my attempts have been futile. I don’t like that. I don’t like the lack of control I have over this situation.
I want it to be known I’m 100% aware I’m being selfish. After all, it’s not my house. If they feel it’s in their best interest to move, then they’re allowed to move without anyone else’s input. But it’s not just the house. My grandparents’ current house is a 10 minute drive from where I live; where they plan to move is out of town, and it’s a 40 minute drive away. Which means that my weekly Wednesday visits will go extinct. Those visits are a highlight of my week, so that’s a change in my routine I don’t want to happen, but I don’t have the petrol money or the time to go out that far every week. I’ll also no longer be able to just pop in whenever I want. You can’t pop in to a place that’s 40 minutes out of town. Whenever I wanted to escape the chaos of my 6-person household, just a quick drive away was the calmness of my grandparents’ house as a refuge. For the first time in my life, that security won’t be there anymore. Is it selfish thinking? Yes. But it’s how I feel.
This is probably the most vulnerable Substack post I’ve ever written (less of a post, more of a rant). I don’t know If I’m even going to post it; I wrote this only because I felt like I needed to write it. No, writing it didn’t give me any epiphanies about my life or a solution to my problem. I think I wrote this in an attempt to gain even just a little bit of closure.
Wow I really enjoyed this, I really related to this here recently:
“Yes, it’s an old house. In fact, it’s over 100 years old (it’s been renovated since then, but still). I usually tend to get creeped out over old places, however in this case, I think the age is part of its charm. I love the high ceilings, the arched door frame in the hallway, the stained glass windows above the front door. I love the old-fashioned light switches and the ornate door knobs. I despise modern interior design. There’s something so cold and lifeless about the lack of colour and the “minimalism.” When I look at the details of my grandparents’ house, no matter how old it is, I’m reminded of how lacking in personality modern houses are.”
The details here make me think a little bit about my wife’s grandma’s house: so old and so much personality and unique detail!! Then we have these subdivisions going up with 5 versions of the same house. Anyway this was a great read!!
My grandparents moved house about 20 years ago and I still think about their old house. Take loads of pictures!