On Selling the House I Grew Up In

I have divorced parents. So technically there are several houses that “built me.” But, the house that I have the most memories in is located in Franklin, Louisiana on the corner of Main and Iberia. My mom, stepdad, and I moved into this house the summer before I started 6th grade at our local high school. It was a big summer for me. I was leaving elementary school and headed to the high school’s campus to start 6th grade. I was also joining my mom on that campus, as she was the high school math teacher. The move into the new house just became a part of my growing up.

The Early Years

The house was built in 1907 and is across the street from the Catholic Church in town — the Church that built me. I received all of my sacraments in that church, including marriage.

When we made the move, the thrill of the new house was off to a great start because I only had to walk across the street on Friday mornings to attend school mass. My friends’ families would park in front of our house when attending mass. I can still hear the church bells when I close my eyes and think about it.

We had end of year pool parties at the house and spent the summers “tanning” in its back yard.

On to High School

The house on the corner of Main and Iberia became a meeting point, a hub, if you will. As my friends and I progressed through junior high and high school, we always ended up at my house.

As we tredged through Junior and Senior years, we took pictures on the porch and we all crashed there at the end of a school dance or football game. The curfew was no secret and “the boys” (and their parents) knew they were not to be at the house after 2am. If the boys did not make it home by 2am, it was a known fact that they were not at my house. If one of my friends’ moms could not find them, the house was the first place they looked. I would bet you dollars that if Hollie’s mom cannot find her to this day, her gut response is to check my house first.

Her College Years

I think the hardest part of going to college for me was leaving behind the atmosphere we had created at my home. There was always a friend or two hanging out at my house through high school and somehow my mom was always whipping up Mickey Mouse waffles. So going to college meant that I was going to have to start fresh at not only cultivating friendships, but where was our hub going to be? At college in New Orleans, I was a good two hours away from Main and Iberia.

But, wouldn’t ya know, I would make my way back there on weekends and holidays. And the house kept its charm. It was as if I had never left. It was still the meet up, and we still played by the rules.

The Wedding

When my husband and I got married, we got married right across the street from the house in that Catholic Church. The girls dressed at the house and we walked right across the street (IN THE RAIN) to the wedding ceremony. I spent my days growing up in that house, from homework to sleepovers. It was and is monumental for me that I grew up in that house and walked out of its front doors to marry my husband.

My husband and I spent our first Christmas mornings as husband and wife at the house on the corner of Main and Iberia with its 12 foot Christmas Tree. Even our baby woke up on his first Christmas in that house.

The House is on the Market

2017 was a DOOZY for us. It was a doozy starting in February of 2017, which makes for a really long year. In the summer of 2017, my mom and stepdad moved out of the house on the corner of Main and Iberia and moved to Lafayette. Truth be told, I did not have time to be sad about the move. I needed them here, and losing the house was the least of my worries. When I shared the house’s listing on Facebook, someone commented and said that it would really hit me when it sold. I have thought long and hard about that because I felt like I needed to prepare myself if that was going to be the case.

But, I have to be honest with you — I am ready to let the house go. I truly believe that we squeezed all of the good times possible out of that house. It saw tears, so many laughs until we cried, so many Christmases, the beginning of new relationships, messes, pizza parties, sooo many hurricane parties, and student council projects and meetings. It graduated me from high school, sent me to college, saw the beginnings of my relationship with my now husband, and it married me off. It had a chance to celebrate TWO Christmases with my baby. We rung that house out of all it had to offer us. It is time for a new family to get some memories out of it.

I am so grateful for that house. It is the house that raised me. While many things changed in my life in the roughly 18 years that the house was in my life, the house remained the same. The house was always there and it held tight to the memories we filled it with.

So, here is the listing for the house. If you want to make a small town move, I have just the house for you. She is ready to be your hub.

Rebecca Autin
Rebecca is an attorney by day and a toddler wrangler by night. She is a product of divorced parents and grew up in both Thibodaux and Franklin, Louisiana. Rebecca attended Loyola University of New Orleans and Southern University Law Center. Rebecca married her high school bestie in 2012. Quinton and Rebecca went through months of infertility before giving birth to Maxwell Lincoln in 2015. In 2016, they were surprised by a baby boy due in June 2017. But, in February 2017, they suffered with incompetent cervix and delivered sweet Theodore Paul too soon. In October 2018, after an incredibly difficult pregnancy, a cerclage, and a whole bunch of bedrest, Fitzgerald Joseph was born -- a happy, healthy, and perfect rainbow. If you can't find Rebecca, you can summon her with pot of freshly brewed coffee or look for her in Target or behind the kitchen island where she is hiding from her kids with a very generous pour of red.


  1. I so needed to read this Rebecca as you know we share a similar “house moving” experience. I am passing your beautifully written blog on to my children and I can only hope they feel as you do about letting go.


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