Tell me about it. I was not happy. Not only is it a great place, but I have lots of great memories from my youth associated with it. And I'm not someone who really moves on easily....In the last couple of months, my parents sold their house and moved into a retirement community. They had owned the house since 1970, and I lived there from 1970 through 1982 (age 9-21). It's a nice, big house (former shoe factory built during the Civil War) and sits on a half acre of land backing up on acres of conservation land. Not only was it terribly depressing having to give up the family house, but it was a nightmare packing up and moving everything; a lot of stuff accumulates in 39 years.![]()
For some reason this makes me very sad.
I mean, good for your parents to be open enough to move to a retirement community and not forcefully stay in their house until they fall down the stairs, but ... I don't know. Giving something that beautiful up really hits home, somehow.
This was a a huge, three-story house with a large basement and garage-- and stuff had been accumulating for 39 years. We were there moving stuff out until literally the night before the new people moved in.My grandparents finally gave up their house in 2006. They had moved in when my mother was 7, so since 1953. Talk about a packing nightmare. Fortunately it was a small house, so it only took them about 3 months to sort through the stuff.![]()

That's me, too. I have stacks of books everywhere, and I've been in this place for twenty years. I want to move once more when I buy a house and then just stay put until I die, or ascend into the Singularity, or however it turns out.Anyway, moving sucks. I have a lot of stuff, and a lot of books, and everyone I know has vowed never to help me move again. That's about 90% of why I've live in the same apartment 9 years later. Next time, I'm biting the bullet and hiring movers.![]()
