After 30 years in our 1970s home, we’re not ready to leave, even with the stairs and lack of a walk-in shower. At 67, I find that downsizing is a common topic among my peers, but discussions often revolve around finances and logistics rather than the deep emotions tied to such decisions.
For now, despite the reasons to move to a more manageable and modern space, we find ourselves staying in this large, outdated two-level, 3,500-square-foot house.
We’ve invested so much into it over the years. My husband and I have upgraded a number of features, including oak plank floors on the upper level and a complete kitchen remodel. We added a long peninsula for more workspace, replaced all the interior doors, upgraded the concrete driveway, improved drainage, and refurbished the patio. Although we’ve generally updated appliances as needed, the old refrigerator in the basement remains.
While we appreciate many of our renovations, not all choices have aged well. The narrow oak planks are now out of fashion, and the dark cabinets we installed in 2011 have fallen out of style.
Financially, maintaining this home aligns with our retirement income, yet replacing flooring or upgrading the kitchen wouldn’t yield enough return for the investment. Our lawn care and landscaping require a dedicated team, with costs adding up for various maintenance tasks.
We even needed a “varmint guy” to protect our foundation, a necessary expense that lacks the excitement of other renovations.
Despite all this, we feel at home here. Our decor might be best described as “Eclectic Grammy,” filled with reminders of past travels, artwork from friends, and countless books. My husband, a retired librarian, has his extensive collection, and I can’t seem to part with any of my own.
Each of us has a dedicated office, and my husband runs an online antiques business from our basement. I treasure my cheerful yellow-and-white striped wallpapered office, adorned with various art pieces and mementos. My father built my beloved bookshelf, holding my most cherished books just a reach away.
From my desk, I can see West Lake and the beautiful trees in our yard, framed by blooming lilac bushes. Three bird feeders await the return of the Rose-breasted grosbeaks from Canada.
I’m not ready to give up these comforts. Though our home may be quieter now, the echoes of laughter and children’s footsteps linger in my mind. My maternal grandfather, a real estate agent, always emphasized that owning a home is an emotional investment. This sentiment resonates deeply as my husband and I consider the idea of downsizing.
For now, we find joy and comfort in our tree-filled lot, rich with memories and seasonal beauty.