Once a year it comes in the mail…a kind of annual rebirth

It’s a card…it’s from a realtor…asking…

“What is your house worth?”


This year’s card again got me thinking…and I’m sure Deborah would agree

the value of our house is different for the realtor than it is for Deborah and me.


A realtor might pause in front of that bedroom door and frown

wondering who in their right mind could have hung it upside down.


She could not know I worked on that door for almost an entire day

and though it is a little different we kind of like it hanging that way.


A realtor might want the writing on our closet door erased…

He might not realize it’s part of our family’s lore…

that our children’s and grandchildren’s every changing heights are written on that door.


A realtor might see the lights in the kitchen…she might laugh or scoff

wondering why to turn them on…you actually turn them off.


She’d have no way of knowing…the switch will stay that way forevermore

having been installed by the same person who hung that bedroom door.


A realtor might want that swing in our backyard replaced…its old and shows its wear

He couldn’t know our children and grandchildren grew up swinging out there. 


A realtor might see the cracks in the ceiling and become enraged.

She wouldn’t see them as we do…wrinkles that come with age.


Yes, a realtor might look at out house and see imperfections behind every window and every door

Never comprehending, in our house, 

it’s those imperfections we adore


To a realtor this is just another house as in search of houses to sell they roam 

but a long time ago it became more than that, 

when it became our home.


So back to the question of the moment, how much is our old house worth?

The house that has seen us through sadness and joy; through marriages and births.


The house where for over 30 years our family has laughed and cried and sat...

The answer is quite simple, you can’t put a price on that.


At least that’s what I was thinking as I read on the card the realtor would pay cash!


And why I smiled so contentedly…when I tossed it in the trash.

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