On the Side

I don't remember if I mentioned this last month or not, but my ancestral home was trashed by renters. We lived in the house my grandparents built in 1956 until the summer of 2007. Three generations of Trees lived in the house until then. My mom thought it had been put up for sale and was renting it until it sold. Three tenants and 6 years later, we walked into a nightmare.

Every wall was painted. Every wall had a hole somehow in the plaster/sheetrock. Every window had at least one pane broken. One of the treads on the stairs was broken. Doors were missing. Mildew was overtaking the tubs and showers. Every door and window frame had nails and screws in the wood, in some instances splitting the windowsills. The solid Mahogany front door was missing it's leaded window and had things either nailed or screwed into it. The dishwasher and refrigerator had to be removed to the alley for garbage pickup. There is a hole drilled through the brick in the laundry room where they decided they needed a new 6 inch dryer vent right next to the perfectly fine existing one. All the custom window coverings were gone or broken beyond repair. The 60 year old pecan tree in the back yard was cut down without our knowledge or permission.

Shock does not begin to describe what was experienced when we walked into the house that first day six weeks ago. It has been a nightmare. My mom has made the 1,000 mile round-trip drive 4 times and will make it again tomorrow. We have been working our butts off on our days off from work to reclaim the beauty of this home and make it presentable to a buyer. There have been a lot of tears shed over this. This coming week will hopefully be the final week of interior construction. We haven't even begun on the curb appeal or damage to the yard. The grass has been mowed though.

I love this kind of work but because of the emotional connection to the house it has been difficult in all aspects. Were this a home I purchased with the intent to renovate and live in, it would not be so bad. But, the fact that it is a home where ever aspect of the entire lot was planned and executed by either my grandparents, my parents, and my siblings has made it hard. I look at the yard and see the plants and trees my grandmother and dad planted. It hasn't been a renovation but a restoration and seeing the conditions of squalor other people willingly live in is quite appalling. I guess there truly only is pride and respect in ownership.