AT on... Home

Can you be homesick for a home you've never lived in? Or even seen in person?

Earlier today I opened up a link in an email, saw the article, and immediately got a little choked-up. The article, in The Spokesman-Review, is on my great-grandparents' Spokane home.

It's nice to see photos, and read about how the homeowners -- the fifth owners to live in it since my great-grandmother's death -- have not made drastic changes to the "unique" house.

It's great to know that there are people living in it who appreciate it.

But my immediate reaction was to yearn for that house, the "comfortable family home," the house that my father calls "whimsical and personal." And I wish it hadn't been sold.

This old-fashioned house is on a short list of places thought of, in a way, as "home" -- they include a rambling house in Carmel, and a piece of property in a small village in England (where, I learned upon visiting, our ancestral manor had burned down many years ago).

Interesting the way the heart works, isn't it?

(The article, At Home in the Historic Webster House, is here.)

Images: Brian Plonka - The Spokesman-Review

Comments (6)

Oh! I totally understand what you mean! Frank Lloyd Wright's first private commission was for my great grandfather, whom he knew professionally. The house was sold sometime in the 40's (I think??), but we still have many of the furnishings and decorations from the house, and I have seen many photos of the interior. (Let me tell you: my grandparents' FLW chairs are not the most comfortable things I've sat on...) My sister, in her drive across the country last summer, has a photo of herself in front of this house, which, though not one of Wright's grandest works, is certainly marked by his signature "prairie style."

Three years ago, I visited the FLW room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the internal resonance I felt there was profound! It was very strange, it really did feel a bit like coming home, even though I was in a museum, and there were tourists around. I almost wanted to step over the rail and go sit on the couch. Where was the rest of my family?

So, yes, I know what you mean.

I get homesick all the time for my "home of the future" I hope to build someday. Seriously. I think about it all the time (wondering if it ever will happen) and get completely sad that it's not a part of my life yet... thinking about all the great little cozy corners that memories can be made in.

I mean, I love my apartment, but ... sigh ... I want that home.

I have been obsessed by NY all my life and the first time I visited there I expected to be blown-away byt he magnificence of it all - but I wasn't and I realised it was because if felt like I had returned home - I knew it so well already

I sometimes wish I could go back to the house I grew up in--which was torn down...

I absolutely know what you mean. I grew up in Connecticut in this incredible, rambling, late 19th century house a block from the ocean, and I miss it so much. We moved when I was 15, but it's still the house I dream about when the dream is about "home."

I remember which steps creaked when you walked up the stairs, I remember how it smelled, I remember how beautiful Christmas was in the grand, cozy living room, and I remember how pretty the holly bushes out front looked all covered in snow.

Now I live in a studio on 2nd Avenue, and my mom has moved to Texas. Sigh. I miss home.

I just bought a 1927 "storybook" chateau that felt like home the momment I stepped into it. Before accepting my offer, the seller requested a meeting through my agent. I met her and toured the house with her....she sowed me all the little quirks of the house, all the while quizzing me...would I combine the kitchen and butler's pantry?...what would I do to the garden?...the spiral stairwell?
At the end of the tour, she opened a closet, that had a box with the original floorplans, articles written about the house through the years, notecards with a sketch of the house, and photos from every era of the house.
She wanted to make sure I would respect the house she said....So I must have "passed" the test. I am now the proud forth owner of the home, and know that it owns me as much as I own it.