post off: do you have a sentimental home memory?

my favorite apartment

As far as home things go, this month is shaping up to be a tough one for me in the heart department. As though it weren’t enough to be saying goodbye to my childhood home, which is now on the market, I also moved out of my all-time favorite apartment in Manhattan as my twin sister moved in with her long-term beau. To be clear, I couldn’t be happier for all parties involved: My parents are moving on to the next phase and building a brand-new home for their retirement, my sister is exploring the joys of decorating with the man she loves and I get to outfit a new, (but still technically very old) apartment in the neighborhood, and we all know how I feel about that. So, fun, new beginnings all around, yes, but as a girl with somewhat of a sentimental streak and a real connection to “home”, the changes do bring about a few moments of pause. Never again will I live with my twin sister on the same street where my parents got engaged, in the apartment that has hints of my Dad’s handiwork all over it, from the paint to the spackle, to a small print he had in his first apartment. Numbered are the days I have left in the house where I lost my first tooth, welcomed and said goodbye to a beloved pet, and journeyed out for preschool and prom. Yes, leaving places is a part of life and I’m not devastated by any means, but I do associate both places with some of my very dearest memories, so I have to ask: Do you have a home or homes that you remember most fondly of all the places you’ve lived? Do you have specific memories that always come to mind when you look back? –Sarah C.

From our partners

My childhood memories almost all seem to revolve around my Grandma’s house. Since she passed in January, I have struggled most with the realization that her death means saying goodbye to a home. I have so many hopes and dreams for the next family to dance in her kitchen and swing off the last rung of her stairs…

Liz K

The last house I lived in was a 1912 colonial with a columned front porch with a porch swing and a view of the most majestic tall maple trees. It is where we brought our babies home from the hospital, and where they took their first steps. It is where we rode out a category 3 hurricane and lost two cars when some of those maples fell. It was where we planted trees when my kids were born and when my father died. We gutted and redid a master bath and a kitchen, planted a garden, and had the best next door neighbors I’ve ever had. We moved away in 2005, and I miss that house and that neighborhood and that porch swing and those incredible trees so very much.

Wow, such a great question. The homes we were raised in have great meaning, but I think the homes where our precious babies came home to are where we have the most recent treasured moments. Thanks for asking this question, it just made us sit, smile and think about all the things that are good!

Megan B

I am SO sentimental about all of the places I’ve lived — but the hardest was saying goodbye to the house I grew up in after my dad passed away. In my mind, I was going to own it someday, that little mid-century house on a cul-de-sac with a view of Monterey bay that extended all the way to Santa Cruz on a clear day. I still feel sad about it. But I managed to salvage the Burgermeister beer bottle opener that was mounted in the kitchen, and I’ve got photos, thankfully, too.


Being from a farm family, and of the second generation of our family to grow up our 1850s farm house, I am incredibly attached to it. My favorite part is the feather-grained woodwork, where itinerant artists would paint designs in varnish on cheaper wood to make it look more exotic. Alongside the woodgrain, they swirled in a baby’s footprint and name, and then a picture of her hand as a ten year old. The handprint was on the door to my room, and made for excellent ghost stories. This summer I’m going back to help my mom steam off some old wallpaper. I’m excited, because the smells of redecorating always mean summer to me.