A few years ago my Mom bought a house in a town different from the one I grew up in, and moved away. It was more traumatic for me at the time because I was living in Anchorage, Alaska, and when one leaves home one prefers the things at home to stay the same. I shouldn't have been surprised that Mom moved away, since by my count we moved 13 times from my birth through my graduation from high school. I think we moved again the month after I graduated, but I digress.
The house Mom lives in now is perfect, everything she ever dreamed of when I was growing up. It was built in 1905 by a single woman (I believe they called them "Spinsters" back then) who made hats for a living. When times were tough she would wall off a room in the house and rent it out to a boarder. Apparently times were tough. When the owners previous to my Mom bought the house to restore it, every room was walled off. One of the boarders had taken the support beams from the basement to use for firewood at some point, so the house has a quaint little slope on the inside. That's exactly the way Mom likes it.
It's been my Mom's lifelong dream to be an eccentric old woman, and I think she's off to a good start. She started liking cats last year after saying she hated them my entire life, so now she has three cats. She collects clocks that don't work, keys that don't go to anything, and she likes to hang pictures of people on the wall that we don't know, and give them names like they're family (Aunt Theodosia and Cousin Bartholomew anyone?).
Who wouldn't absolutely adore having a Mom like that?