I admit. Once in a while I get to thinking about what it means to be working in a primarily second-home market. Too many houses up here which just sit. Too many people with too much stuff.

But….

Pretty much every day, I check the Atlanta Journal-Constitution website to keep up with what’s going on down there. And, in a strange mood, I’ll read the obituaries.

Just read a gut-wrenching account of a young boy who died of cancer on his ninth birthday. Sad: a totally inappropriate description and explanantion of my reaction as I read such a tragic story.

But this part of the story warrants attention. Quoting from the AJC obit: “And if the family took a trip to its cabin in Cashiers, N. C., he was in his element. ‘It was his favorite place in the world,’ his mother said. ‘He just loved nature and the outdoors.’”

When I meet with people looking for a place in the mountains, I’m not thinking of someone else buying something they don’t need. I’m not thinking of someone just trying to get a place so they can brag to the Jones about their mountain house.

I’m thinking of people just like this family. People who live busy lives who relish the opportunity to return to something in their soul which nourishes thier lives, which gives them reason and motivation to keep living as meaningfully as they can.

Not long ago I ran into the people who bought the first place I sold when I started in the business up here. “Smartest thing we’ve ever done,” she said. “Thanks so much for helping us find this place. We just love it up here.”

A sense of place. To relax, to rejeuvinate. Whether you’re 9 or 90.

God bless that little boy. And may his family’s return to the Cashiers cabin always remind them of the best of his energy and passion.