A story I wrote back in 2014. Wow almost 9 years ago. Times change, circumstances change. Just a while after I wrote this we sold this place and returned to Bertram to the home here that we dearly love.

Moving back has afforded us so much more time with our grandchildren, well and our children too. We would have missed out on so much, had we not chosen to come back home. It seems that far too many of us don’t always see the value of family soon enough and miss out of life’s greatest joy. The joy of grandkids.

While I wish a lot of things were different, I truly am blessed and want to be thankful for what life has to offer everyday.

Now moving on to what this story is really all about……..please read and I hope there is something beneficial that others can take away from it.

Our Corpus Christi Home

Madeline and I bought this home in Corpus almost 2 years ago. It was a house, a dream home, that I actually never dream I’d live in. It’s a beautiful home, almost a perfect layout and sits looking directly out and across Corpus Christi Bay.

We found this house and immediately knew we wanted it, but figured it was far above our means. Most home purchases are that way, or have been for us.

This place was built in 2009, so was only 3 years old when we bought it. It was a foreclosure. An elderly couple had torn down their original house that they have spent their life in raising a family and built their dream home back in the same location. The economy and some bad investments had caused them to become financially strained before they much more than got started building the house. They couldn’t hold on to it, so lived in it for only a short time.

It would have been easy to look at this as one persons loss, another persons gain. But we never felt that way. Madeline and I have felt a sadness connected to this place. Of course we bought it at a bargain, because we were in the right place at the right time. But we always think about the other couple. Knowing the pain they must feel.

Shortly after closing on the property, we started to do some minor things to make it our own. We had work crews here for about 3 months while we continued to live at Port A. One day some mail was delivered for the previous owner. It appeared to be something important, so rather than forward it, I chased down an address for them. It was an apartment complex across town. I delivered the mail to them in person. When I rang the doorbell an elderly gentleman answered the door. I explained who I was and why I was there. His wife walked up behind him and took over the conversation. In fact, he never spoke a word to me.

She stepped outside and closed the door. She was so nice and so pleasant. She apologized that her husband had been less than friendly. She told me about the history of the situation. I understood why he felt the way he did. Don’t get me wrong he wasn’t ugly or even rude, he just seemed crestfallen to me.

We exchanged phone numbers, in case any other mail arrived or we needed anything. I went on my way.

A few days later a package arrived and I called the lady. I offered to bring it but she said she would stop by later. When she got here we visited for a little while. We sensed that she didn’t care to linger for very long. It was all too raw and painful. We had seen a write up in the paper that featured this home where she was interviewed about her dreams of giving parties and offering cooking demonstrations. But those dreams had been dashed by circumstances.

Luckily nothing else ever came addressed to them. Sometimes it’s better to move on. But even after almost 2 years our hearts still go out to them. There is the urge to extend a hand, but we don’t for fear of rubbing it in their face. Wanting them to know they are welcome to come back and see the place, but knowing that them coming probably isn’t possible.

After being gone for a few days, I returned this afternoon to this big ole empty house. Just me. Madeline is still in the Hill Country. I did like I always do when I get here. I went out front to check for packages.

There, on a brick window ledge, was a small box. I brought it inside. There was a note held on by a rubber band.

It read “This belongs with this home, my dream home, originally bought in 1975 and rebuilt in 2009.
Please enjoy.

Sincerely,”
(His name)

It was an embossing stamp with the address of this place on it.

(He states originally bought in 1975. But he had lived here growing up because he had bought the place from his parents)

I came in and read the note and thought about the gesture and then set and cried my eyes out. I couldn’t help myself.

Here is a footnote to that story that explains more about the why of all of this with the house:

I am able to look at the man and his situation and understand why he built it.
He was a banker and had enjoyed success throughout his life. Along came an opportunity to enjoy the fruits of his many years of labor, so he invested in the natural gas business. He was only working to secure the best for he and his wife.
He retired after a lifetime in banking, the bottom fell out of the natural gas market. All this happened as he and his wife were building their dream home, their retirement dream home. The house got built quicker than the natural gas business recovered.
I’m sure looking back, he would do so many thing differently.
This reason I say I understand, I once sold some property in Austin and made a huge profit on. More money than I ever expected to have. But I was young and knew the way things were, that extended out over the rest of my life the money wouldn’t last forever. I was able to put the money into a development with several other people, far smarter than I. Right when the development got underway the bottom fell out of the real estate market in the late 90’s.
We should have thrown on the brakes and halted everything. But we couldn’t imagine things getting as bad as they did. But it lasted much to long and everyone lost. I lost the money that I had made for my family. Even though I thought I was doing what was best for my family.
That’s why I can look deeply into that man’s situation and know what he feels. Racked with guilt for himself, but much worse is the guilt of losing his wife’s dream home and his daughter’s inheritance.