The Trials of a Busy Mom

Unlived in, unwanted, unloved

There’s quite a lot of road construction going on in our little city, and most of it involves expansion. There’s eventually going to be a 5 lane highway from the freeway to basically my house. The roads are all filled up with orange barrels and cones– Oh, that reminds me of a joke I heard recently — “There are only two seasons in Utah…Winter and construction.” Get it? Anyway, I was saying something about construction. I knew they were going to take out some houses along the main road to make room for the new road, but I was shocked and surprised when one day they were there and the next day there was a pile of rubble where the day before a house had stood. Then there’s another street where they are also widening the road. Several houses along that street are also slated for demolition. I drive that road about eleventy times per day taking my kids school, soccer, friends’ houses, and to go to WalMart. I’ve watched two houses get moved off of their foundations and hauled off somewhere else. Well, I didn’t actually WATCH, but I observed the progress daily and then one day they were gone. There are three or four more houses that are looking like they might be next to go. The lawn has been left to die, uncut and weedy, the people who lived there have moved out and moved on.

I just wonder how those people feel. They lived in those houses, making them comfortable and lovely places for their families. They worked in and worked on those houses, inside and out. They were their havens from the storms of life, and now they are going to be hauled off or torn down. It’s one thing to sell your house to another family, who you hope will love and take care of your house as well as you would, but to sell your house to the city knowing that it’s going to be demolished is another thing.

It’s hard enough watching other people living in and changing a house. When we sold our house in Lehi to move to this house in Highland, we were pleased to sell our house to a young family. Mostly, we didn’t care who bought the house, as long as we sold it. But now, when we drive by the old house, we notice the changes they have made. They took out the ONE TREE I had in the front yard, the golden chain tree that I LOVED

and put up a flagpole. A flagpole! And I’ve never once seen a flag on that flagpole. But the house is still there. The back yard is still there, and still a great place for kids to play. The maple tress that we planted from spindly little bareroot trees are now big and lush. If I were to drive by and see the the house had been razed or taken out for a road, I think I would cry.

So I wonder what kind of grief those people are going through. Is it like losing a family member, or is it just a place they used to live? Unlived in. Unloved. Unwanted. I wonder.

3 Comments

  1. Paige

    That’s sad. I hate to see things like that too. It’s like they are changing your memories. Like, your childhood house always looks different than you remembered it when you go back. 🙁

    Now I’m sad.

    But you did tell a joke so I’ll just think about that now. Hee, hee. Funny. Winter and construction. 🙂

  2. Tess

    Who is this other Paige commenting? Are you talking to yourself ;)?

    and we tell that joke like this:

    there are four seasons in Utah

    almost winter

    winter

    still winter

    and road construction

    hahahhahaha….that one always cracks me up

  3. Melissa

    That was a beautiful, sad post. The church we were married in was brand new at the time of our nuptials, and not very well constructed (someone from the church did the work, and wasn’t honest about his ability) and has now been torn down. All that’s left is the crumbling foundation and parking lot – the land has never even been resold from when a developer bought it from the congregation. It makes me a little sad to drive by it today!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© 2024 Superpaige's Pad

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑