Senior Moments
By Charles P. Eberson
A Senior’s Observations, Opinions and Rantings
I lived in the house with the lions for over 50 years. At least that is how our home in Margate was known. When we would give directions to company we were expecting, we would give the street, house number and always end with “the house with the lions.”
Even when we would order subs or pizza to be delivered, we would give the address and the restaurant would say “Oh, the house with the lions.” There were four large solid concrete lions on the property.
One lion lying down on each end of the lot and two sitting on their haunches about four feet tall on the porch like sentinels guarding the entrance. My brother and I would sit astride them like horses, put berries where their eyes should be, put hats on them and generally, included them in our family.
Time moved on, our parents passed and we inherited the property. We decided to rent the house and a family with two young girls moved in. When I would go by the house, I would see that they had decorated the lions with necklaces, ribbons and at Christmas time with garland and Christmas balls. It was heartwarming to see that our lions had also become members of their family.
When our renters decided to move on, my brother and I were faced with the dilemma of what to do with the family property. As is often the case when family members have to deal with their parent’s estate, our relationship which was steadily deteriorating, became increasingly toxic. My efforts to ameliorate the situation were to no avail. The only way to extricate myself from this unpleasantness was to sell the property, which we did. When it became known to me that our home was going to be demolished and a new home built in its place, I couldn’t let the lions go. I had to have at least two of them and I chose the ones that stood regally at the entrance.
Now these two lions stand on either side of the walkway leading up to my front porch in Ventnor and are constant reminders of the years spent at my home in Margate. My grandkids climb all over them, poke their fingers in the eyes and try to put their hands in the mouths. Best of all, our Ventnor home is now referred to as “the house with the lions.”
