Diana's house story

The following email from Diana Storrs is one of the reasons I like to do this blog!  You'll see why when you read it--and she gave me her permission to post it here.  Thank you, Diana!


My dear friend, 

I read your blog about tiny houses with great interest.  None of the condominiums and houses I lived in during my marriage "fit".  They were selected and purchased by my then husband, with one goal in mind, to keep buying up, to have the biggest, best property with an ocean view he could possibly find.  I patiently packed and moved nine times during those thirty years, always making the next, "better" house as beautiful and artful as I could.  Placing each expensively framed print in just the perfect spot, arranging the beautiful furniture with the best flow and feng shui possible. Looking back over those years, I see now that I was something of an ornament in those spaces, the trophy wife. I didn't realize it then and would never have thought it so, without having it brought to my attention in later years by discerning friends.

The final house from which I fled, was my husband's dream. A designer house with his coveted, designer ocean view.  He sold it after I left, his dream crushed.  My anguish and culpability now stay, for the most part, carefully shut behind a stout door in my heart.  Troy, who is my heart, told me once that the "bank vault" of my heart had finally been overdrawn.  All the personal recriminations of that time are a story for another day.  

What I really wanted to share with you is that I found my perfect fit in a modest, two story home, built in 1941.  I was only its second owner during its long life and I treasured it beyond all expectations.  It sorely needed a loving touch when I bought it and I stood in one room after another and vowed to myself that someday, every view into every adjoining room would bring beauty, joy and peace to me first and then to anyone else who looked.  I very nearly achieved that goal when fate stepped in and I walked away.  I didn't flee this time.  I departed graciously and gently.  

I will always miss that home.  Memories of my son, my friends and family, all of whom left a bit of themselves there, will forever remain with me.  It was my first "fit" and like a first love, can never be replicated. 

Keep blogging, Linda!  I love it and you!
Diana