When we build a house from the ground up, we hope and pray it will become a home. The centre of a family for more years than our own. It is impossible to know what will happen within those walls. Joy, tears, pain, success, love, loss? What we do know is the walls of the home will stand for as long as they are strong.
Early Homestead
This home raised a pioneering immigrant family of 8 as they eked out life in the bush country. Then it raised a second family during the post-war years. For many years it sat empty before it was moved to it’s current and final home. Dreams of restoring it, creating a guesthouse filled with the past, never came to be. It was protected as well as could be until it couldn’t be saved anymore.
This home will not stand much longer, but it will live on. The family tree that is rooted here has far-reaching branches, and most are still connected with the trunk. Many of the hand hewn logs are still sound. A portion of the walls have found a home over a fireplace. Others will be reimagined, holding onto whispering memories made within the former walls. Window frames long devoid of their ability to keep the elements out, will frame the elements of the past to connect with the future. I have found it so humbling to undo someone else’s earnest labour.
Unbuild to Preserve
I will miss this home deeply when it’s gone. For the 13 years I have been here, it has been a point of interest in an otherwise hardworking area of our yard. When it was safe to do so, it was interesting to explore with the kids and unearth bits of the past. It was interesting to look at lit by the moon while I rocked babies. It was interesting to see how unkind time can be. I often feel it is wrong, or too soon to start to unbuild it. But I also have a sense of urgency as I see the roof cave in a little bit more with each snow and rain. Soon it will be too late and we will miss any opportunity to preserve its legacy if we don’t do something now.