Where It All Began: Grandma Snow's House
Our first renovation wasn't just another house. It was a home filled with a lifetime of memories, family traditions, and a whole lot of love.
Some homes are more than four walls and a roof. They're where you grew up, where traditions were made, and where the people you love made you feel like you belonged.
For me, that home was Grandma Snow's.
My grandma had eight children, plus their spouses, and 32 grandchildren. And somehow, she had this incredible ability to make every single one of us feel like we were her favorite.
I'm still not sure how she pulled that off.
She lived just around the corner from us until I was eight years old, and she worked at my elementary school. I always knew she was close by. There was something so comforting about knowing I could count on her to be there.
And the traditions? Those were something special.
Every Fourth of July, we'd gather for waffles and ice cream after the parade. At Easter, she made each of us our very own chocolate-filled Easter egg. You could choose your filling, and I always picked peanut butter.
Now, think about that for a second. Eight kids, their spouses, and 32 grandkids. And she made a special egg for everyone.
At Halloween, there were homemade donuts. She never forgot a birthday. And, of course, there were snowmen tucked into practically every corner of her house. With a name like Grandma Snow, how could there not be?
She even wrote an entire cookbook by hand and made copies for everyone in the family. To this day, it's one of my most treasured possessions.
As I got older, I started sending her what I called a "Grandma Card" every month. Just a little note to stay connected and let her know I was thinking about her.
Years later, when we were cleaning out her home, we found dozens of those cards tucked away in different places.
She had kept every one.
That's the kind of grandma she was. She made you feel loved, remembered, and important. And she held on to the little things because, to her, they weren't little at all.
A Home Worth Holding On To
When Grandma passed away, Isaac and I approached my family about purchasing her home.
It wasn't a decision anyone took lightly.
There was so much history in that house. So many memories. And when a home has been part of a family for that long, selling it isn't simply a transaction.
We wanted everyone to feel good about the decision. We wanted it to be fair. And most importantly, we wanted the family to know the home would be taken care of.
Thankfully, they agreed to sell it to us.
That home became our very first renovation.
We partnered with a local home flipper who was willing to teach us the ropes. We learned about budgets, timelines, contractors, unexpected surprises, and all the things you don't know until you're actually in the middle of a renovation.
We learned a lot. And we loved it.
But what made that first project different was knowing whose home we were working on.
Every improvement felt personal. We weren't just updating an older house. We were caring for a place that had given our family so much.
And while I loved being able to give Grandma's home a new chapter, there's a part of me that wishes I could have done it for her while she was still here.
I would have loved for her to enjoy those updates herself.
More Than a Renovation
That first project taught Isaac and me so much more than how to renovate a house.
It taught us that a home can hold two truths at once.
It can be filled with irreplaceable memories, and it can be time to let it go.
You can love a home deeply and still recognize that it needs a new chapter.
And making that decision doesn't diminish a single memory made inside its walls.
I think about that often in my work as a real estate advisor.
I've been on both sides. I've experienced the sentimental side of saying goodbye to a family home, and I've experienced the practical side of making decisions about repairs, renovations, budgets, and selling.
I understand that sometimes a home represents decades of holidays, birthdays, ordinary Tuesdays, and people you wish you could have just one more afternoon with.
I also understand that life changes. Families grow, needs shift, and sometimes selling is the right decision, even when it's a hard one.
That's why I never want the people I work with to feel like their home is just another listing or another project.
Because to them, it's not.
Every Home Deserves a Thoughtful Next Chapter
Since Grandma Snow's house, Isaac and I have continued renovating homes through Kershner & Co. Renovations. We've learned a lot along the way, but the heart behind what we do hasn't changed.
We believe homes deserve to be cared for, and the people connected to them deserve the same.
Whether we're renovating a property ourselves or helping a family navigate the sale of a home they've loved for decades, we want to approach it with intention, respect, and an understanding of what that home represents.
I can't promise every decision will be easy. But I can promise that I understand there's often more to the story than what you see on paper.
Grandma Snow's house was where our renovation journey began.
And in a lot of ways, it's also where my appreciation for the meaning of home began.
Because a home's value isn't only measured in square footage or what someone is willing to pay for it. Sometimes, it's measured in homemade donuts, peanut butter Easter eggs, handwritten cookbooks, and a stack of Grandma Cards that someone loved enough to keep forever.
That's what Living Well Starts at Home means to me.
And it's an honor to help families write their home's next chapter.
Whether you're preparing to sell a home filled with decades of memories, navigating an inherited property, or wondering what comes next for a home you love, you deserve someone who understands both the emotional and practical sides of the decision.
