THE HORSESHOE

Apparently hanging a horseshoe with the ends pointing up is said to capture and hold the luck inside.

When I was a kid, I lived in a ranch house that had a 2 car garage under the south facing side at the bottom of a paved driveway. Somewhere my father got his hands on 2 horseshoes that he painted bright red and nailed over each door. The young me asked my father what they were for and he replied: “for luck.” No further explanation and no further conversation. Every few years he would take them down, freshen up the paint and nail them back up again. If my memory serves, the lucky hanging horseshoes outlived him.

My father was diagnosed with lung cancer in the fall of 1993. Things went downhill rapidly and he died on December 20, 1993 just after 4 in the morning. I awoke in my apartment to the howling of an animal outside in the middle of the night. I knew. Somehow I knew he was gone.

My uncle was at my mother’s house (dad’s brother) and he knocked on the door of my place next door a little after 7 AM. He announced who he was as he knocked and I knew. I knew it was about to be confirmation that my father was gone.

Sometime in the early 2000’s, my mother decided to cover the old wooden shingle siding of the house with light blue vinyl siding. I believe it was then that the horseshoes were permanently removed and perhaps thrown out. Either way, I never saw them again.

As you drive around, you will notice that people hanging horseshoes above doors isn’t that common on the outside of a house. In fact, I can’t think of any place that I’ve seen it….maybe this has become an old tradition. Inside? Not that I can recall….

Fast forward a few years more: I’m at mass in a small church in Enfield, NH. It is the church where Vanessa and I were married. We both loved the priest and we went to mass regularly when we were at the lake. We had been talking about starting a family and during a quiet moment in church I was thinking about how we were going to continue to spend time in our little cottage that had no insulation and no heat. In short, we had a summer place and although beautiful, the summer warmth in New Hampshire can last 4 months or 4 minutes…

Like a bolt out of the blue, a thought shot into my head: we have a good amount of land at the camp…..build a house. I consciously wondered if my father was speaking to me directly in church. To be honest, I was a little freaked out.

I shared the idea with Vanessa and then the rest of my family. We began looking at blueprints, researching the installation of a septic system, speaking with builders and running all kinds of cost numbers. This lasted for almost a year and then failed when it became clear that it wasn’t going to be as easy or cost effective as we first thought.

Fast forward another year or two. Our first son is born and it becomes clear to me that summering in the cabin long term is not going to be a viable option with a growing family. Let me pause here by sharing that I completely realize that I am describing a “champagne problem” about a family owned vacation spot. I understand that I am blessed…

So, in the early spring of 2015 I received a text from a cousin telling me that the house directly across the dirt road from the cottage was for sale and that we were, at some point in the near future, going to have new neighbors.

QUICK….to the Google Machine…. I went and did a little Zillow search. Three bedroom cape built in 1974. Back porch had three steps to get in, no first floor bedroom, but first floor half bath….Hmmm. I let my wife in on the fact that this was for sale. We quickly agreed to take a look. If my sister and brother in law could come with us, I could bring my manual wheelchair (I was using a power one and those DON’T get lifted up and down any steps). They could at least bump me up and in so we could take a look….

The conversation with my sister and brother in law went more than well: we discussed buying the house together to have a place for family and friends to gather while making memories that simply would not be possible in the cottage. Things were coming together quickly, but I still had to navigate the unwanted guest that lives in the center of every big decision I’ve made since I was 12: My lovely muscle disease.

Even if we all fell in love with the house, I would need a place to shower on the ground floor, a bedroom, a place to store a portable lift (people lifter so no one hurts their back hauling my dead ass around), and enough wide open space in a dining/kitchen area so I could comfortably fit my power chair at a table. As usual, the dream smacks into reality when the details reveal themselves. On the other hand, if the “why” is strong enough, I always find a “how”. I’m not easily deterred.

The day that we drove north to see the house was typical early spring in New Hampshire; sunny but cold. Upon arriving I saw a tight packed gravel driveway. Good sign…I could roll on that quite easily. It sloped up to a back deck that I saw on the Zillow photos. Bump up two steps and two more to get through a door that opened to the kitchen. I had not put much stock into the Zillow pictures of inside the house since, well, those can be easily manipulated to make rooms look huge, when in reality….not so much.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the first floor had a den that could be converted to a bedroom and the half-bath, although a bit tight, contained the washer and dryer. Those could be relocated to the cellar and a roll in shower could be put in…..hmmm.

Everyone went upstairs to check out the bedrooms. I parked at the dining room table and allowed myself to smile and wonder if I was going to become an owner of this place. Across the road from Camp Mascoma, the business that my grandparents ran for more than 30 years. I couldn’t get any closer without being on the property. This house was almost perfect in terms of modifications that it would need to be fully accessible not just for now, but for long term. Another little (huge) issue with muscular dystrophy is that it’s the disease that keeps on taking. It’s always progressing so that small modifications don’t last more than a few years and then I need to retool again. See also the “why” and the “how”. I am not easily deterred.

While I sat quietly at the table thinking about money, the future, and if the rest of my family would play ball on all of us having a second mortgage, I looked out a west facing double door opening into a sun room that had been added to the original build of the house. There were 2 chairs, some plants and a small couch. Sunny, warm, cozy and down one step. No problem that a temporary ramp wouldn’t solve.

Beyond that room, another pair of French doors led to a screened porch.

That’s when I saw it: A horseshoe hanging above the doors to the porch.

We bought the house. We modified the house. We have had nothing but great memories in and around the house for 10 years and counting. We didn’t ask the prior owners about the horseshoe and they took it with them when they moved. It doesn’t matter. As Einstein said: “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”

Thanks dad.

Stay safe, stay awesome, and stay tuned.