The other night, a friend put up a post on my Facebook page via, that I accidentally kind of ignored for a couple hours, not really giving it a second thought. When I got home later that night, I finally had a chance to sit down and check out what he actually posted. It was an article that was talking about my old house.

As I began to read, my heart kinda sank into my stomach. I read all about how the local brewery behind our old house, Mast Landing Brewing Company, wanted permission from the city to bulldoze it down and expand their beer garden. This expansion would give them some much needed extra space in the already existing garden, and make room for a spot to park a food truck. And the house is vacant at this point, and is owned by the landlords who own the building the brewery is in. I don't blame them one bit for wanting to maximize their business potential.

Now, I have zero problem with progress. I used to own Mr. Bagel in downtown Westbrook, so I have a deep love of the community. It's an underrated little city with lots of potential that folks in southern Maine are just beginning to realize. So I'll say right out of the gate, kudos to the folks at Mast Landing for their great success so far, and I wish nothing but the best for them.

But there is the sentimental side of me that kind of died a little bit when I read it. My wife and I shared the wee abode for the first seven years we were married, and we poured our heart, soul, and bank account into that house. We painted every room, put in new windows, re-did the hardwood floors, pulled every stitch of old carpet out and refinished the upstairs floors, etc.

Bummer...Our First Home To Be Torn Down In The Name Of Progress

I know I'm not alone in this. Maybe the house you grew up in has been torn down, burned down, or someone else lives there. It gives you a feeling of leaving home and never being able to go back. It's been five years since I lived there, and as I was going through these photos to post in here, all these memories started coming back to me.

Like the time I tore my calf muscle and had to crawl up and down the stairs on my butt to get to the bathroom or to bed. Or when we refinished the floors and hooked the radiators back up wrong, and water started running our of every one of them like the blood out of the elevator in The Shining. Or my 35th birthday surprise party that my wife threw. Trust me, when I say it's R-rated nature is not suitable for this format. Hahahahaha!!!!

So for a few minutes, I really felt sad, and that I was losing an old friend. There were years of laughter, tears, friends, good times, and bad. Mostly a lot of good old fashioned growing up for a couple of youngsters figuring out how to be married. So I'm going to miss that place. Even after it's gone, and progress has taken over the space, I'm always going to look over that way if I drive downtown through the Brook. And no matter what is standing in it's place, I'm always going to see the spot where my whole adult life started for real.


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