“We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors. We borrow it from our children.” –Ancient Indian Proverb
The keys to the Atomic Abode will go to the new owners on Monday. Except for the items they purchased at the estate sale, the house is empty, cleaned, and ready for its next inhabitants.
The first owners of the home lived in it for over 40 years. I lived there for 13 years – a blip on the radar compared to them. My best wishes go out to Dave and Lisa for a long and happy life there. It is likely others will follow, and the house will outlive us all.
Which brings me to the notion of stewardship.
When I moved in in 2002, it was evident that the prior owners aged in place. The walls were filthy, including dog claw marks throughout the basement. The washer drained into the sink of the mother-in-law kitchen downstairs, and the dryer “vented” via a dirty sock tied to the stovetop vent. The wall next to the cooktop upstairs hung with grease, and the curtains and draperies were stained and tattered. Light fixtures were rusted and encased in cobwebs.
In a fashion that became typical of me, I set about restoring this diamond in the rough. I would repeat the process with FiFi the canned ham trailer and Floyd the 1956 Chevy and various and sundry furnishings and collectibles and vintage clothing and hats and handbags and dogs and cats. There’s nothing I love more then breathing new life into something forsaken and forgotten.
Closing this chapter evoked many questions. Will I have the energy and resources to leave other things better than when and how I found them? Am I doing enough for the greatest treasure of all – Mother Earth? How may I become a better steward for the things I borrow but never truly own during this short life?