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You think they’re just wooden structures. They’re containers, made to hold people and possessions. Houses don’t have souls.  At least that’s how I felt until I drove by my old home of ten years.  That’s when my heart broke.

Our beloved, beautiful house was abandoned.

Our wonderful family home had ended up the neighborhood eyesore, the creepy neglected site with broken windows and peeling paint.  It was like seeing a friend sick in the hospital and helpless to do anything.

I don’t know how it happened. Years ago we sold it to a family.  They moved in and then moved out.  No one moved back in.  I’m not sure why.

Now the once-green lawn’s overgrown with waist-high weeds.  Windows stare back empty and vacant.  A sad, lifeless silence comes from a place once bursting with activity.

I think back to the days we moved there in 1991, our first home after condo life.  My immediate order of business was changing the exterior’s neon yellow color.

I took days, even weeks, picking out the perfect shade of warm beige with soft green for the shutters.  In warm months, I’d fill a window box with ivy and pink geraniums, going for that English country feel.

My oldest Patrick was a baby back then. I look at the left back window where his nursery was and now that window’s covered by a fallen tree no one’s bothered to remove.

I think of the morning Patrick learned to walk in that living room taking clumsy steps, arms in the air. Paul came two years later.  My two little boys, ages 2 and 5, loved playing in a plastic pool on the front yard.

Over ten years there were Pokeman cards, Power Rangers and skateboards.  I felt blessed and happy.

Now I feel guilty.  Our boys grew.  We needed space.  We opted for the bigger contemporary a few miles down.

And now this little ranch stands dejected, almost accusing, the one I left behind.

Making matters worse, I read that empty homes don’t sell. People are creeped out by all that dead air and open space.  People need to see evidence humans live there.  People like happy houses.  Who can blame them?

Over the years I’ve envisioned a young family moving in.  I want this house to have birthday parties, holidays, and pizza nights again.

I’ve also tried telling myself it’s only a house.  It’s not my problem.  Why am I upset over this?  And yet something pulls at me.

Even though this house isn’t alive, for me it has a soul.  Like all houses, it’s an empty vessel needing that spark of life and humanity.  And like people, you can tell the difference between a house that’s loved and one that’s unloved.  You can tell the difference between a happy house and an unhappy one.

Recently I received encouraging news.

A friend told me they heard someone had bought the place.  And yes, it was one of the cheapest properties in town.  But it was bought.

The other day I drove by.  Although there are no signs yet of that young family, there are changes.  Brush has been cleared. The lawn’s mowed.   A pile of stones sits to the side as if someone plans to build a wall.

I rejoiced. It’s like that friend’s been given a second chance.  This house will become occupied again.  All it needs is that animating spark.  All it needs is that family to inhabit it the way we did.

I drove home that day giving a prayer of thanks.

This home — which made my family so happy — also deserves love.

 

What are your thoughts?  Do houses have souls? I’d love to hear and if you’d like to share, feel free!  Thanks.
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Comments(68)

  1. Very nice read, Laurie. We bought a new vehicle last year. My old Escape sat on the driveway looking so sad until it got a new owner. It made me happy that my little Escape would get attention again. The new owners even spruced it up with some window tinting. I guess maybe cars can have souls too? 🙂

  2. I'm so happy for your sweet house. I get it. It sort of happened to me as well but some tech hot shot came in and quadrupled the size of our home sweet home and believe me, it was no less the shock and sadness.

    These places are our moments in time, you can see the memories so clearly yet what is right before your eyes is jarring.

    I guess 'here's to living in the present.' Let our memories live on vividly. when we go back for a visit in our recollections.

  3. So funny, Karen. Maybe cars do have souls. Maybe anything we love we imbibe with emotion, even inanimate objects.

  4. Here's to living in the present, indeed! Now that this house is getting new owners, I feel I have closure. I can relax.

  5. You bring the soul to the house! And it reveals its soul to you. Symbiotic relationship, I think. Not surprising that you made this one sing . . .

  6. I agree humans give houses soul. And in turn, houses give humans a bit of their character and charm. Very symbiotic.

  7. I love this. I drove past my childhood home a few years back and I guess the neighborhood went to hell because there were bars on the windows and everything looked so worn down, but the pomegranate tree out front was still there and that made me happy. I think they do have something similar to a soul, maybe just traces of memories we leave behind.

  8. I love that way of putting it. Yes, we do leave traces of ourselves in houses. Maybe that's what gives them their life and character.

  9. Awww, beautiful. There’s a fine old house on the corner of my block in Brooklyn that has been sold to a developer who’s going to knock it down and build a fancy apartment building (which is going to block the sunlight and full moon light that both pour into my bedroom). I was crushed when I found out the owners had sold it. There was another house next door that was not so lovely, owned by a hoarder and very run down, that suffered the same fate – the building there will block the sunlight and sky from my living room, but I’d thought that the owners of the corner home would never sell the lovely home into which they’d put a lot of care and maintenance. But no. “It’s hard living next to a construction site”, said the owner, shrugging, when I saw her at her yard sale, asked her if it was true, and failed to hide my shock and dismay when she said yes.

    The house is empty now, waiting for the wreckers, and as I was walking past it just last night, I was thinking it looked terribly, terribly sad.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      That is so sad, Bonnie. Especially if the house is still lovely and undeserving of that fate. Unfortunately, that’s not the first time I’ve heard of money trumping beauty.

      1. My block is part of a narrow strip of non-historic in a very hip historic neighborhood. Three homes on the block went this year – the corner home was one of the last. Rough, but that’s kind of how it goes in NYC.

          • Laurie Stone

          • 8 years ago

          It happens also in Connecticut. I’ve seen beautiful houses taken down and MacMansions put in their places.

  10. I lived in a house that had a ghost once…does that count? I hope that house is still there and comforting families like it did us at one time. It is hard to go back because it taints our memories. Maybe there is a lesson to be learned here.

    b+

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      A ghost?! I’d be scared but maybe there are nice ghosts. I also find it hard to go back home again. And I think you’re right. There is a lesson there.

  11. Yes, I totally feel this way. I would be super sad if our house ended up sad and neglected. So glad someone bought it!

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      I am too, Stephanie. Last time I checked it was still being worked on. Hope that family moves in soon.

  12. Oh they do, Laurie. At least mine do. I’m not ashamed to say that whenever I drive away from mine for a long period of time I say BE GOOD HOUSE. And in all the lovely homes I have made my own, the HOUSE has never disappointed me. This past summer I drove by our old house in Des Moines and it did not look the same without me. It missed my love. I know it’s still there, but the family is a bit busier than I was. I always think of the Virginia Woolf very short story: The Haunted House. You would love reading that one.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      I’ll definitely read that story, Beth. You sound like a wonderful house owner.

  13. Aw, I totally feel you on houses having a soul! I would be so sad to see our first home in disarray. Our current house was a foreclosure (a flip) and I think it was really sad until we moved in. It seems happier now that we’re here. 🙂

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Rachel, I hate seeing neglected homes. They always seem sad. Glad you “saved” your house.

  14. They have memories. It is sad when they fall into trouble but sometimes the property is worthy of a rebuild and a new life if the home is too far gone.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      True, Haralee. Many times if the land is beautiful, there’s no choice but to take it down and build something even nicer.

  15. I know they do, and hearts too. When happy people occupy a space, it can be look any number of ways but still impart a feeling when people walk in. It’s my favorite compliment, because some of our happiest years have been in our current home. It’s in the walls.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Susan, Yes, you can tell a happy home right when you walk in. There is something in the air… and the walls. I love that.

  16. My Dad once told me to always remember that buildings are just bricks and mortar….the only important part of a building are the people in them. I must tell you this has helped me so much throughout my 63 years. I treasure all of the memories I have had in all of the homes I have lived in during these years. But, if we need to move for one reason or another …… I bring all the memories with me and have no problem leaving the bricks and mortar behind.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Ellen, That’s a good way to look at it. It also allows for the next family to move in and make their mark. You’re right, houses are brick and mortar, although its the people who bring them to life and give them soul.

  17. I can so relate to this. I think houses DO have souls…echoes of the people who have lived there. I am so glad that this has a happy ending.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Thank you, Anna. I’m glad too!

    • Sue

    • 7 years ago

    i believe they do have souls Laurie and I’ve often wondered what my childhood home looks like now many years later. So good to hear that your home may have a loving family to continue bringing joy to its soul.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Thank you, Sue. Interesting to think how a house “reacts” to a different family living there. I’d love to go back to my childhood homes although I know they wouldn’t be the same.

  18. I’m glad someone bought it and is taking care of it. I sometimes drive by my old house just to check what the owners are doing with it. I was devastated when they pulled out a garden that I had carefully cultivated. I had to take a deep breath and let that one go.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Jennifer, That’s a great blog post — someone pulling out a garden that you labored over. I had the same thing happen when new owners took away a favorite flower box of mine I’d hung on a front window. I also had to take a deep breath.

  19. I occasionally drive past our old house (where we lived for 21 years and raised our family) and I am always relieved to see that it’s being looked after. They don’t have children, but they seem to love it and care about it. It must feel like such a relief to know that someone else is going to care for your old girl – and give her the love she deserves.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Leanne, That’s nice that your house is well cared for. That’s what counts. I’m crossing my fingers that my old house will have such luck.

  20. It’s funny I recently went back to my old hometown and the house that I grew up in was in this same sad state of disrepair and it just broke my heart. So many memories from this house. I hope someone buys it as well.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 6 years ago

      Rena, Its such a sad sight to behold. Its like seeing a sick loved one and being helpless to do anything.

  21. Memories can live on in our hearts and minds forever. Your wonderful memories of that house live on so many years after. Such a beautiful story.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 6 years ago

      Darlene, Thanks so much. Would you believe, its still empty? For a while I got my hopes up, but unfortunately, it still stands neglected.

  22. Congratulations on all of the comments!

    I had a house that was haunted once. Does that count?

      • Laurie Stone

      • 6 years ago

      Wow! Haunted?! Oh yes. I feel a blog post coming on. Please write one. Sounds fascinating.

  23. I believe they do…and this was a beautiful post..

      • Laurie Stone

      • 6 years ago

      Glad you agree, Renee. Thanks for the kind words.

  24. It is strange going past properties that you once lived in. Growing up in London I lived in a terraced house and one day my mum decided to paint the front door and window sills bright yellow. This was in the early 1970s. My parents moved in 1979. My mum was in the area a few months ago for a funeral & having some time to spare she decided to walk past our old house. She said it was really odd – the house was still painted yellow after all these years! 😊

      • Laurie Stone

      • 6 years ago

      Linda, That’s so cool about the yellow. What a cool way to grow up, in London. I bet you have lots of wonderful stories.

  25. Hi Laurie
    I came across your article while doing a search for articles on whether buildings have a soul. I am half way through a photographic masters research project which combines imagery with the writings of a famous Irish writer, John McGahern.

    A lot of my images are of old abandoned homes in the North West of Ireland and the landscape. It all harks back to a life that is slowly disappearing. And I always feel a strong empathy with the life that once had lived in a place. Sometimes it gets too strong and I have to step away. I would like to reference your article in my thesis. You can view a selection of the images that are included in the thesis on my website.

    Kind Regards
    Paul Butler

      • Laurie Stone

      • 5 years ago

      Paul, Thank you so much, I’d love to be included. Your photos are beautiful, so evocative and lovely. You’re very talented. Could you send me a link once the essay is up? Thanks so much, Laurie.

      1. No problem, will do.

          • Laurie Stone

          • 5 years ago

          Thanks, Paul!

  26. My parents house (the house I grew up in and they have owned for 52 years) has a soul. In fact, it is almost alive. I a crushed we have to sell it. My father has passed and my mom is too old for such a large house. It is crushing my heart.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 5 years ago

      Lauren, Glad I’m not the only one who sees that houses have souls. So sorry you have to sell your parents’ house, part of your family for so long.

      1. It’s actually selling right now. And my heart is breaking into a million pieces.

          • Laurie Stone

          • 4 years ago

          Lauren, How sad. I feel that way about my home now. Can’t imagine walking away. I’m sorry.

    • Lea Sylvestro

    • 5 years ago

    I read this with a heavy heart…until the hopeful ending. If we are lucky, our homes are our refuge, our happy place…they embrace us. I worry about the day when we move on from our 1782 house – I have felt like a steward for the house and it’s history. But people don’t want antique homes anymore. The thought of driving by and seeing her decrepit as you found yours would break my heart…So glad you’ve heard tell of new owners!

      • Laurie Stone

      • 5 years ago

      Lea, Your house is lovely! I don’t blame you for wanting to stay a long time. And yet, sometimes we have to move on and hope our beloved homes stay loved. Its a tough time.

  27. For certain houses have souls. I hate to see something abandoned. I immediately want to move in with adhesive tape and bandages and make it well again. I think I would be very happy restoring old houses.
    One of my favourite poems (and I know, I’ve shared this before–even recently) discusses something similar.
    It is by our beloved Longfellow and starts like this…

    All houses wherein men have lived and died
    Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
    The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
    With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

    We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,
    Along the passages they come and go,
    Impalpable impressions on the air,
    A sense of something moving to and fro.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 4 years ago

      Diane, Getting goosebumps, but I understand. There is something “in the air” sometimes, but hard to describe.

      1. Here in County Leitrim, Ireland, having photographed many old and abandoned homes, one can still feel a presence. A sense of place, a sense of home.

        No matter if you move home, a small piece will always remain as part of the tapestery of that place.

          • Laurie Stone

          • 4 years ago

          Paul, What a beautiful thought! Yes, I agree a part of every home we’ve lived in stays with us. By the way, I love Ireland. Visited a few years back and was struck by its lovely people and beautiful scenery.

  28. While I’m not 100% sure about souls, they definitely have stories. Whenever I see an empty house I always wonder about its stories.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 4 years ago

      Mo, So true. They all have stories.

    • Jay

    • 4 years ago

    Does trash have a soul?
    Maybe that’s why some people become hoarders?
    LOL!

      • Laurie Stone

      • 4 years ago

      Jay, My husband might think so! Personally, I love to purge so I vote no.

  29. Somebodys trash eventually becomes an archaeologists dream find..

      • Laurie Stone

      • 4 years ago

      So true, Paul!

  30. I’m so glad to hear that house is loved once again. I think abandoned houses are the saddest thing ever. And the most intriguing. I can’t help but wonder who built them. What were they thinking the day they moved in? The day they moved out? What memories are still played out there? Oooh! Now my imagination is off on a trip of its own…

      • Laurie Stone

      • 3 years ago

      Diane, I bet you could write a wonderful book about that.

    • Kaylee

    • 2 years ago

    I’m waiting for the sale to close on my house. We are making a large profit and hoping to find a bigger house but I can’t help but miss my old house. My heart is breaking and I am hoping the next owner will love it as much as my family did. I feel like my house doesn’t understand why I’m leaving. My soul and the house’s are intertwined now. I knew we would move eventually, but I still had so much garden and interior projects thought up and drawn out. I feel like my entire life is being sold to someone else. I was a stay at home mother there for 4.5 years.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 2 years ago

      Kaylee, I understand completely. The good news is you’ll bring your same loving energy to your next home. And keep your fingers crossed, your old home will have another wonderful family move in.

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