When Memories Hurt.

Christine and I are sort of in the process of house-hunting.The dream of finding the "perfect" home for our family in East Vancouver, a community we have embraced as our own, is slowly morphing into a nightmare of affordable houses being totally awful to downright frightening.

Chris found a house in the Republic of East Van that, while not fitting any of the preconceived ideas we had, was priced affordably. It sported zero of our "must haves", none of our " wish list" items, but its greatest sin was that it looks chillingly like the house in which I survived childhood. Ever experienced a viceral reaction to a house you have not entered? Without ever setting foot in that little shack, I was unable to breath, as my heart was racing out of control, felt instantly vulnerable and in great danger. Not fun, not at all.

There are several similar houses in Vancouver to which I react badly, but I've never contemplated entering any of them for any reason. Since they are what we can afford to buy in our chosen neighborhood, while being financially secure and at least a little mature, it looks as if we must say goodbye to our beloved East Van, and hello to PoCo or Port Moody. I'm sure hell houses, full of debilitating memories exist there, too......but ours won't we one of them.