Downsizing, home-wise, can offer great pay-offs

I wanted what everyone wants at one time or another. I wanted room to stretch out. I wanted a house big enough to hold my family and all that we owned, and a yard big enough to let my children run and play. When we moved to the Northwest, like most people who come to this part of the country, I was taken by the sheer elbow room. Just a mile or two out of town, you can find all the land you want. With four children, ages 3 to 13 at the time, I wanted to plant my family where we could put down roots. So I found a house on a big lot 15 miles north of the city. The house was big, with room to expand. So, we did. Everyone had their own room and I had a space to write. The house was open and airy and our out-of-town guests loved to visit. At night, we gazed up at the star-filled sky, brightened by the distance from shopping malls and parking lots. In the summer there were trails to explore and the river to paddle. Wintertime brought a snowy wonderland of open, untouched spaces decorated by deep drifts and flocked evergreens. The view from the front windows was like something you’d see on a postcard. At the time, it was perfect. But, time passes and things change. The children grew up and spent less time running on that big green lawn. And I began to feel guilty about the water needed to keep it green and lush. The vaulted ceilings downstairs held the heat of the summer day and at night that heat radiated up to the upstairs bedrooms. The air conditioning ran all day and all night. The children joined clubs and participated in sports and other activities. I drove hundreds of miles each week shuttling them around. Eventually, I went back to work full-time and that meant that both my husband and I each commuted an hour a day. I know that’s nothing compared to the grueling commutes drivers face in other places, but it began to take its toll. I worried I wouldn’t be able to get to a sick child fast enough. We turned down invitations because it was just too much trouble to leave work, drive home to change or see to the family and then drive back to the city. It took hours to clean the big house – hours no one wanted to sacrifice - and I didn’t have the time to do it on my own. So, the expense of weekly housekeeping help was added to the budget. Bit by bit, I fell out of love with the big house and the big headaches it was causing. So, three years ago we sold the rambling house in the suburbs. We bought a little cottage near the park. At less than 2,000 square feet, it’s a third of the size of the house in the country. It took a little time for the teenagers to adapt to small rooms and less privacy, but they were all on their way to independence so they made the adjustment. It wasn’t seamless, but we survived. We had to think about what would make the move with us. All those possessions were measured and evaluated. The football field front yard was replaced by a postage stamp lawn. The backyard, with miles of sprinkler hoses and tubing, was replaced by a vest-pocket square of grass surrounded by climbing roses and weathered fencing. I water now with the hose or a watering can. Now, we are minutes from downtown, from the symphony and favorite restaurants or just a walk by the river. My personal space is smaller, but just around the corner the formal gardens and the green, grassy park are always waiting whenever I want to take a walk. My youngest daughter, now the only one at home, rides her bike through shaded neighborhood streets and could walk to her high school. We walk the trails on the bluff, overlooking the valley. On holidays, when we’re all together, I put a long table in the living room near the fireplace. The big formal dining room is gone. Last fall, I noticed my son standing at the wide front window looking out as people walked down the sidewalk on their way to the park. “Have you gotten used to it yet?” I asked him. He stood there a minute, his hands in his pockets, before he turned to smile at me. “It’s all good,” he said watching the people walk down the street and turn the corner. And it is. At this time, it is perfect.