I was having a family picnic/backyard camping adventure at my parents’ place when I noticed the garage. This structure has been around for as long as I can remember. I even have vague memories of it being moved from the south end of the property to east of the house when my parents wanted a new paved driveway. I also remember thinking that it was weird to move a garage. That old thing? Why bother? Wouldn’t be cheaper to build a new one?
Yesterday I stood in the garage, looking up at the underside of the roof, at the walls, at the electrical wiring. There’s proof the building has been moved and updated: window frames have been reinforced, garage door opener is shinier than the last, garage door frame is a clean white (minus the black scuff I made with the driver’s side mirror last year…shhh). The ceiling now has makeshift storage for extra bits of wood, insulation, stuffs. But it was when I was looking past all of that that something really grabbed my attention. The dark brown wide wooden planks that make up the original structure aren’t particularly pretty to look at. They really stand out next to the more pristine modern plywood, 2x4s and vinyl siding.
A quick conversation with my dad over wine revealed a lot. It turns out my grandfather built the garage over 40 years ago. Those planks of wood may even be from the old family barn. My dad remembers parking his first car in that garage.
I still don’t know if they moved the garage because it was cheaper than building a new one. I didn’t ask. It’s more fun to think my Dad chose to keep it for memories’ sake, sentimental value even. The family barn and farmland are long gone, but a bit of family history still remains.