I love being just a passing human in my old house
I live in a house from around 1750. I absolutely do not know previous owners except for the two last ones (up to 1950).
I really LOVE the feeling that in a few generations, other people could live here with not a clue about who I am. It gives me both a sense of relief and dizziness (small events in my life are a tiny point in the universe and history), and a duty to preserve the house strong and old structure for future users.
I feel like with a newly built house, I would only project my house as going to my kid, but history shows that over the long term that is not the case.
What are your views on that? Does your small time in the house compared to its age give you a positive or negative perspective on the finitude of life?