The “starter” home that I bought in 1974 for $10,000 recently sold for $840,000. No, not my financial coup. I’d sold it for $30,000 five years after I bought it. I’d considered that outrageous good fortune.

Originally built as a summer cottage, it clings to a side hill on the very northern tip of Vashon Island, across from Seattle. It has one bedroom, a cramped kitchen and a panoramic view of Puget Sound’s marine life with snow-capped Mount Baker far in the north, the Olympic Peninsula to the west and city skyline to the east. Considering the million dollar view, you could argue the new owners got a bargain.

“You should’ve kept it,” murmured the friend who told me about the sale. I sighed. Many times through the years I thought about that dear first home. Sitting now at my keyboard I drift off … I’m standing at that big front window, mug of coffee in hand, drinking in all the beauty that stretches out before me. Too wonderful to be mine. 

I shake myself back to reality, to practicality. I sold the house because I was marrying my beloved, moving to the other side of the state, and would have neither time nor energy to maintain an island haven. We already had a second home: our newspaper office, where we shared the work we were both devoted to.

If I did have that $840,000 (minus fees, commissions and taxes), what difference would it make in my life now? None. Nearing age 82, I’m content with my lifestyle. Throughout the past decade of downsizing I discovered I have everything I need and too much of it. My financial advisor says I have enough money to last my lifetime, with some left over. Well, we’ll see. 

I could increase my charitable giving, although it always takes more than money to solve our real problems. With inflation, that $10,000 I invested in 1974 has the purchasing power of about $66,000 today. Good luck finding a starter for that amount. A one-bedroom in King County now goes for $350,000 to $550,000, says Zillow. Even for those of us who no longer need a starter, the Seattle Times reports that Washington is the seventh most expensive state for older adults. 

It’s all about numbers, unbelievable numbers. 

“More than 90 percent of all money — more than $50 trillion appearing in our accounts — exists only on computer servers,” writes Yuval Noah Harari in his book, “Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind.” He notes that “most business transactions are executed by moving electronic data from one computer file to another, without any exchange of physical cash.” On the book cover, above the title, above Harari’s name, is a blurb praising the book by someone who knows something about computers and money— Bill Gates.

Harari defines money as an “inter-subjective reality that exists solely in people’s shared imagination.” In simpler terms, he says, money is “a system of mutual trust, and not just any system of mutual trust: money is the most universal and most efficient system of mutual trust ever devised. (Italics his.)

For example, he suggests: “Christians and Muslims who could not agree on religious beliefs could nevertheless agree on a monetary belief, because whereas religion asks us to believe in something, money asks us to believe that other people believe in something.” (He really likes italics.)

Money has never been my motivator. It’s been a concern, a consideration, but never an end goal. Years back, my late husband John was figuring our net worth while applying for a business loan to purchase new equipment for the newspaper. With an astonished voice he declared, “Mary, we’re millionaires!” That was back in the day when a million bucks meant something.

For him, it wasn’t a measure of greed, wealth, or the supposed easy life that a million dollars could bring. It was an objective measure. Starting with nothing but talent and grit, he’d turned a small town newspaper into a million dollar business without, mind you, sacrificing his journalistic integrity. I enjoyed the richness of sharing in that achievement. 

Ultimately, our million dollars and more got sucked up by the medical industry following John’s brainstem stroke and paralysis. Over the remaining years of his life, he went from millionaire to Medicaid. The most common cause of bankruptcy in our nation is medical bills. We escaped that and the ignominy of a Medicaid divorce, thanks to a capable lawyer.

The last time I visited Vashon Island, after John’s death several years ago, I was amazed that my little house was still standing. I suspect now its days are numbered — the numbers being $840,000. The new owners likely will tear it down and spend at least that to build something more appropriate for the view I’d reveled in. 

I gave it up for something worth much more than any amount of money. Nostalgia but no regrets.