Updated: July 30, 2019
Originally Published: November 16, 2015
I could easily spend an entire day glued to home renovation shows on television. The transformations of spaces, showcased through the stark contrast of “before” and “after,” never cease to amaze me. I often find myself dreaming of how my own outdated bathroom could benefit from a makeover, wishing for a professional crew to come in and revamp my old laminate countertop and dated wall tiles.
As I envision the future, particularly when we become empty nesters, I fantasize about investing in enhancements for our quaint 1970s ranch home—envisioning stylish couches and freshly painted walls devoid of crumbs from family meals. Yet, this daydream comes with its own set of questions. Once the kids fly the coop, would I truly want to erase all the scuff marks left by backpacks, shoes, and toys that have made their marks on our walls? Would I be ready to part with the unique traces of childhood, like the black Sharpie doodles my youngest left on the old heater?
I can’t help but ponder whether I would have the courage to dismantle the homemade treehouse and swing set, now just remnants of a bygone era, destined to gather dust and decay. I understand why it’s tough to clear out the outdoor toys—the Big Wheel trikes and bubble mowers that now languish in the garage, remnants of weekends spent together, joyfully picking up sticks.
And what about those cherished pieces of clothing they insisted on wearing day in and day out? The capes and costumes, along with the oversized backpacks from their first day of school—how could I let go of those? I once thought I’d relish the day I could dismantle that massive train table, yet I can still visualize the laughter and joy of my little ones as they played on it.
As the years pass, the little toys scattered around the living room will eventually be replaced by video game controllers, which too will eventually gather dust. I might even hesitate to patch the holes in the mantle from the nails that once held our Christmas stockings or discard that lopsided tree adorned with dollar store ornaments, which brought so much joy during their childhood.
Will I truly look back at juice-stained couch cushions with a sense of nostalgia? Or will they serve as reminders of the epic leaps and bounds my boys took from the furniture? The little hole in the wall that came from a particularly spirited wrestling match—would I have the heart to fix it? And what about that spot on the ceiling from our syrup-making adventure gone awry?
Will I need extra blankets on the couch to replicate the warmth and closeness of snuggling with my kids? What about the little footprints on the wall? Would I be able to erase those traces of their childhood, or would I leave them as a testament to the joyful chaos of their early years?
As the silence settles in after they leave, will I find myself longing for a little bit of that chaos again? If a renovation crew were to appear at my doorstep, offering a free, hassle-free overhaul of my kitchen and bathrooms, I wouldn’t completely dismiss the idea. But even without such a stroke of luck, I believe I could find contentment in holding onto the “before,” cherishing the memories embedded in every flaw and imperfection.
This article was originally published on November 16, 2015.
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In summary, while the allure of a pristine, updated home is enticing, the memories and chaos of family life are irreplaceable. The “before” stage holds a unique charm that I may not want to fully transform into the “after.”