{"id":291,"date":"2011-05-25T05:42:00","date_gmt":"2011-05-25T11:42:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/69.195.124.95\/~redletu4\/staying-put\/"},"modified":"2011-05-25T05:42:00","modified_gmt":"2011-05-25T11:42:00","slug":"staying-put","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/davidrupert\/staying-put\/","title":{"rendered":"Staying put"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

I remember Mrs. Johnson. She had the old house that needed a new roof and a paint job. But the most remarkable thing was her spectacular garden with flowers that always seemed in bloom. As she stood outside in her white bathrobe that perfectly complimented her hair, she could name every plant and the location of every bulb.<\/span>

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<\/span>The reason? She had spent nearly sixty years in that home. Her husband bought that home and they had two children before he died on a beachhead in Europe. And she stayed, cooking breakfasts for her boys as they grew to men. And every year she put up pickles with her dill and cucumbers that grew by the fence. Soon, the grandchildren came to love that safe place.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
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Photo courtesy Ali Mahmed<\/a>\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

Last year, I had the house up for sale. Some of it was out of desperation. But after nine weeks and just three walk-throughs, it was obvious it wasn\u2019t going to sell. A depressed market. An Overpriced home. Bad paint. \u00a0<\/span>
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<\/span>So I decided to stay put.\u00a0The vagabond spirit that marked my life maybe found a close.<\/span>
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<\/span>And I\u2019m not alone. The mobility rates has been steadily\u00a0declining across the U.S.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n