Hello old house!

This is our humble abode in San Jose, Batangas back in the 90s. My father bought this new from his lawyer friend. The property is nestled in a sprawling landscape totaling 3,000 square meters. The house itself is considered a mansion in Philippine standards for it has 4 spacious bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 4 living rooms, 2 dining rooms, 2 kitchens, 1 maid's quarter, a pantry, laundry, lush garden decorated by a variety of roses and orchids, a large indoor garage that can accommodate up to 4 SUV sized vehicles, and lastly, a wide backyard converted into livestock farm with a a decent kiddie pool. He was only 29 then. 

This house was his symbol of prestige, affluence, and hard work. Being the clever and ambitious second son in the brood of 8 children, he devoted his bachelor life providing for his family back in the old days. His hard and dedication while working as a plant warehouse supervisor in Ameron Co. in Saudi Arabia rewarded him and his siblings promising careers and successful lives. This house is one of the fruit of his hard labor, and it has always been special to all of us.

Growing up, I rouse to the fresh scent of poultry and livestock such a swine and goats raised in the backyard. Sometimes, we helped papa or mamay harvest eggs, grow flowers, vines and vegetables or just watch the swines being slaughtered (savage). Oftentimes, my siblings and I would pretend we were cowgirls or hacienderos roaming around our country home. We had pleasant childhood memories in this house. 

But some things are not just meant to be even though you never took any for granted. I was 14 when wrong investments prompted my parents to sell the house, and we just couldn't stop them. The house was sold for a meager amount of P6M back in 2003. If I will based that in the recent market evaluation, it would have been around P11M. They decided to relocate in Mindoro for good despite our pleas not to do so. We lost everything though after our sudden migration in the province. What pains me though is the loss of the dear house that we considered our safe haven.

Moreover, their decision broke our hearts. I had been an introvert since then. In my case, I have never really moved on from it because my family's best memories had been in this place. Until now, this house still haunts my dreams once or twice a year. The mere thought of it never failed to move me to tears precisely because our lives drastically changed since the day it was sold. Gone are the laid back, country lass days. Gone are the good old times when my family, and I would travel in nearby cities of Lipa or Batangas City or just play around the compound after a hard day's work or class. 

Last night, I dreamt of this house again but I felt better now. I know it is in good hands with my cousins and nephews. Why am I posting this? Because anyone's wealth does not amuse me. It never did, and I don't think it ever will. It is sickening to the core when people hold on to everything mundane, monetary, and to their worldly possessions. I pity those who would only treat others in a humane manner if they aren't paupers. Selective kindness disgusts me. On a lighter note, old houses have always caught my interest. They have histories and pleasant memories which make them even better than those empty new ones.