She's still wears a smart, designer, coffee-cream coat, likes a good party, maintains a great wine cellar, and welcomes family and friends with warmth and love.
She's my house. I celebrate my silver anniversary with her this week.
It does seem like only yesterday that my dear departed and I trampled in the cold to a savings-and-loan in a north Detroit suburb to sign the mortgage papers and close the deal. This imporant real estate transaction really felt good, underscored by the prospect of a recovering economy and a new job for me at the-company-formerly-known-as-The-General at world headquarters.
So, 25 years later, how has it turned out?
The high-curb-appeal beige ranch on the commons is still standing tall, continuing to earn raves from first-time visitors. It has provided an anchor for life and career ups-and-downs, celebrations of birthdays, anniversaries, Belgian visitors, and Stanley Cups, and barbequed burgers. The company, on the other hand, has died stone-cold through bankruptcy.
While the real estate market has tanked, my personal palace delivers peace and comfort that some folks in newer mini-mansions can't hope to enjoy...especially hampered by underwater, interest-fueled mortgages. I'll be looking for brand-new digs some day but, in the current environment, there's nothing like living with the one you love.