My Grandparents’ House

I have many happy memories of this house, which my grandparents lived in for 50 years. The island (from which the photo was taken) is connected to the mainland at low tide by a sandbar, and I (as well as most of my cousins) got stuck on the island more than once as the tide came in.

My grandparents’ home. The sandbar at left is only above water at high tide, making many opportunities for curious children to get trapped on the island while exploring.

Sadly, now that my grandparents have passed away, this house will be sold, and most likely demolished. None of my aunts or uncles has the inclination (or money) to fix up the house and live in it, and the lot is simply too valuable for a 100-year-old fixer-upper in this day and age. So, the house where my mother and her 7 siblings, half-siblings, and step-siblings grew up will soon be no more. The house where I, my brother, my sister, and our 15 cousins spent many happy weeks, is likely to be replaced by two or three McMansions.

The joys and sorrows of four generations over a half-century; the life lessons learned in the tides and tidepools; the memories of dozens of people who have been touched by this house and the people who occupied it; these cannot be measured in dollars and cents.

I can only hope that in another hundred years, another three generations of some other family will gather sadly, and when they contemplate the fate of their own slice of this earth, their own memories will be just as cherished as ours.