September 21, 2024
This is my grandma's house. She died in 1997, at the age of 96. She lived in this house from the 1940s until a few months before she died.
My mom has decided to tear down the house. It's not that sturdy anymore. So my mom and my brother stripped it out. They're going to let the volunteer fire department in the area burn the rest down as a training exercise. I wanted to take some pictures before that happened.
She died when I was 18. Her house is across the driveway from mine. She was always there as I was growing up. I loved her a lot. 
My mom grew up in the house and drew all over the walls in the mud room.
Stripping down revealed layers and layers of old wallpaper and tiles
I have a lot of good memories of being a kid there. Warming up by the fire in the winter, eating boiled dinners, having tea parties, running away from tyrannical parents to my doting grandma.
Now it feels so profane. So breezy and yet much smaller than I remember it. I remember her telling me stories and giving me backrubs. It'll be burned down by the next time I come home.
