A tribute to the house that built me

It's like losing your anchor. They say that home is where the heart is and right now my home is in Washington State. But then there's your "home home" which is where you are from. For us, it's on the east coast. For me specifically, it's Maryland.

In 1953, my grandparents bought a log cabin along the banks of the Severn River. There was nothing spectacular about the house. It was just a log cabin on the banks of the Severn that had been added to over the years to accommodate our growing family. The additions didn’t even match the original log exterior of the house.

But, the house stayed in our family for 53 years and it’s those 53 years I want to make sure are remembered. I am quite sure that the previous stewards of the house are long gone and any memories have been eroded away by the passage of time or have been locked away, forgotten in an old steamer trunk in the attic of a previous owners great grandson in the form of faded photographic paper and ancient 8mm celluloid.

This tired, old log cabin was more than just tree trunks and mortar with some windows. It was where our family grew up. It was where we all gathered when the family got together. It was the scene of countless crab feasts and birthday parties. It was where we hunkered down against the occasional hurricane that made it up to the mid-Atlantic coast. It was where I learned how to swim and how to water ski. It was where I learned how to play the guitar. It was where all of the “summer friends” played flashlight tag on lazy, hot summer evenings. It was where we all were stranded for a week after the blizzard of 1979 (or was it 1978?). It was where we all got together for holidays.

It was the house that built “me”. It was my anchor, my home home. But what made this collection of logs and lumber and concrete special was family. This was where our family gathered for special occasions. It was where we gathered for not so special occasions. It was the only place where we all gathered together as a family.

Over the years, maintaining the property became more and more difficult. In 2006, with sections of the old log cabin deteriorating and requiring extensive TLC to repair, my grandmother sold the property that had been on our family since 1953.

Our family is now scattered across the country. With a stroke of the pen, the one thing our family had in common was sold. While we will always and forever be family, the only thing we will all have in common now are the memories of our lives and times in our home on the Severn. There is no longer a single gathering place for all of us to gather as a family.

Our family home is now being disassembled by the current stewards to make way for a more modern home. From now on, this old log cabin that housed and comforted our family for 53 years will exist only in our memories, in our stories, and in the countless pictures and home movies that we have accumulated over the last half a century. I will try to share some of my memories and pictures from the Severn on this blog as time permits.

This is my way of saying goodbye to an old friend, my home home, and the house that built me.