There is nothing really constant about life. It is a series of changes both large and small, positive and negative, and even some neutral. They may be chosen by you, or for you, or just happen randomly.
Take a look around your home town. If you are over twenty-five, I’d hazard a guess that you’ve seen plenty of changes in your neighborhood. People move out, move in, die, are born… houses may burn, or an area you grew up playing in over-grown fields may now be yet another series of cul-de-sacs.
I have been mourning some of the changes in my area daily for the last six years now. Some I had noticed before then, but they really hit me after living in the UK for two years, then returning to the old homestead, as it were. Fields where my friends and I first learned to hunt rabbit in are filled with houses. One of our favorite places for summer concerts is falling down and over-grown. They’re tearing down ‘our mall’ to build a newer version. The place I used to get most of my sewing supplies is gone, the historic rail station building that housed it has been razed, and there are apartments being built. Not sure I’d want to live there… you couldn’t hang anything on the walls, because I am positive the entire place will shake every time the train goes by…the tracks are still in use, and only about three yards off the back of the building.
This morning I woke to another loss. One of the top employers in my city suffered a devastating fire, and the building, a well-kept over-a-century edifice, is rubble in the street. The owner plans to rebuild, and he wants his workers back, but for now… the bridge to the next town is closed, sections of 3 major roads are closed, and people are staring in disbelief. Even if the company rebuilds on the same site, the façade is forever changed. That’s a bit sad. So much changes when people don’t take care of what we have, don’t value it, or deliberately vandalize it. We can’t get it back, and those who come after us don’t know what they’ve lost.