Oh, most certainly.
We moved to this wonderful old fashioned domicile in the country when I was 6. Woods all around, big front yard. Whenever I drive thru Cleveland I make it a point to go there.
Then came to Florida and this awesome house on the St. John’s River. Saw so much wildlife, fantastic sunsets too.
Not really, and in fact, had much the opposite reaction to our last place.
We bought a condo in Chicago in 2007. It was a 5-unit building, and we were first in. From Day 1 there were problems with the place that, at first, the developer fixed, but then he got harder and harder to find, until he essentially disappeared altogether. We spent 7 years there, and there was always something to be done to the place. Most frustrating was a series of near-constant leaks in the roof and the door leading to the roof-top deck. I’m pretty sure I got everything fixed by the time we sold, but I was anxious for a while post-sale, convinced that the buyers would be calling any day and threatening lawsuits (I did disclose everything I knew about, but still…).
Having said that, we had some really good times there. The neighborhood was great, the layout of our home was fantastic (see rooftop deck above). A few months after we sold, my wife passed by there, and came home a little annoyed that the buyers had seemingly scrapped a lot of very nice (to us) upgrades we had made. My reaction? “Don’t care. Not ours.” I was no longer President of the condo association, I was no longer wrangling contractors, and I was no longer having near anxiety attacks during every thunderstorm, convinced that this was the storm that was going to send a torrent of water into our living room.
We left some money in escrow for the buyers, against a few specific potential repairs/issues, for one year after closing. I have deemed that date to be “Independence Day,” to be celebrated every year.
It’s become a joke in our household. If my wife mentions anything about that condo, before she’s even finished speaking I say, “Don’t care. Not ours.” It’s been very freeing.
Don’t care.
Not ours.
One of the original owners of our current house stopped by once.
She gave us a couple photos of the house and backyard as they looked in the 1970s, which was nice.
I’ve only lived in my old family house, part time at my grandmother’s, in a small flat, and in our current house. I think being attached to any house depends on how happy you were living there… My old family house is now rented out by my brother, and I don’t care if I never even drive by it ever again. Amazing how bad the neighborhood is now, once the old folks die off and their kids rent out the houses, lol… I think of my old flat fondly, on occasion, though I certainly would never live there ever again, omg - no air conditioning, I was living upstairs over a young family, it was in a tumultuous time of life, etc. but it was all mine and I was out of my parents house… My grandmother’s house, where I was happy, is so small and shabby looking now! I loved it there… Our present house, I am sick unto death of it, and all I want is to make sure it’s sort of kept up so I can sell it some day.
Not really. I have warm feeling of a house from the extended family where I lived now and then when times were bad and the fun of being in a larger more normally abnormal family; but I wouldn’t want to own it or go back there. My wife, OTOH, is anchored to our house which had left her family until we bought it. It has been an anchor and an albatross but the only way she would ever leave is feet first.
Yeah, nostalgia is pretty good. I regularly see some of the houses I grew up in (welfare kid, so kind of mobile), other than the pre-divorce houses. The address of my trailer house is still here, but there’s something newer than the 1968 trailer (in 1986) that I lived in. Kind neat neat to drive through the trailer park.
When I have the opportunity, I like to drive by my “high school” houses. These days, Eastpointe (né East Detroit) has degraded a lot, but, you know, I had good an bad memories in those houses.
I look at Fliegerhorst Kaserne on Google Maps, and I drove through Ft. Hood while passing through.
As for my adult houses that I personally owned, they literally have my blood, my sweat, and my tears in certain components. Yes, I feel attached. I hate the woman I sold my first house to, but I’m glad to see that she improves it, because damn it, that house deserves it!
I’ve only driven past my second house once post-sale last year. I miss my fruit-bearing apple trees, and I really loved that house (I stripped and built the kitchen with my own hands, and more). I only sold it post-divorce, 'cos memories. On the other hand, with more knowledge and experience, I know the location wasn’t ideal for me, and so, zero regrets.
My current house? If I sell it, it will represent good memories. Maybe bad memories (who can tell?). But part of my history.
No I have no attachment to any houses I lived in , I do have attachment to the state of one of my houses I owned and that is California .
Yes indeed. Last night the wife and I were up on Tantalus (and just around the corner from Richard Chamberlain’s old house, but I think he sold it long ago), looking down at the lights of Honolulu including the Manoa Valley, and we picked out Hale Manoa. We always look for it.
I was married to my first wife for nearly 7 years and we only lived together in a house for the last 2.5 years.
But even though I was only in that house a short time, it felt like my home for a VERY long time. Years after I moved out, I still drove by that house once in a blue moon and mourned for it. I’m just glad the new owners didn’t see me and call the cops.
My freshman year in college my Mom moved. I spent 3 summers there and a year after graduation and after that I visited occasionally. After my mom died my sister bought the place and uses it as a cottage (it is in a vacation area). I still have attachment to that house and was glad my sister bought it.
I spent seven years in an apartment – I will drive by every once in a while, but don’t have a strong attachment to it.
Brian