the temporary nature of things

[pinkytoe]

For many years, a lovely elderly couple lived a few houses away. We had lots of fun times together even though we were 30 years apart in age. A few years ago, the wife died after a series of long-drawn out illnesses. A little later, the husband was diagnosed with cancer and we watched him whither away to nothing and then pass. The house that they cherished sat unsold for at least a year before an offer was accepted. Their wonderful gardens died from lack of care and the house looked empty and sad. This week the new owners began a total demolition and renovation of the site, doubling the size of the house and completely enveloping the massive oaks with the addition. It is the most bizarre thing to watch those walls come down remembering our dear neighbors and how shocked they would be if they were still here. It makes one realize how quickly time passes and lives change. So many have come and gone and eventually forgotten by newer generations. Ditto for all the beautiful natural places that once existed and have been lost to development. Sorry...just some mid-life observations to get off my chest.

[CathyA]

I know what you mean pinkytoe.
I imagine people living here after DH and I are gone.......maybe selling the grove of walnut trees, cutting down all the trees that we've planted over the years, completely changing the house, getting rid of our little water gardens and chicken coop.
It really hurts my heart to think that. But then I realize that today is all any of us have. And today, its all ours.
But it is hard to not ache when you see time passing, and beloved things changing.
Those thoughts are some of the most painful I have.

[Kestra]

I think often about the farmstead where one of my sets of grandparents lived for most of their lives. Maybe I think about it so much because it is no more. I don't know when everything was constructed - the house in the 30s or 40s maybe and there were outbuildings that seemed older. Back when horses were still used for farming. They didn't have indoor plumbing until the 60s. There were fields and a big garden and a greenhouse and a big rock. All surrounded by aspen poplars. In the east central part of Alberta. We spent quite a lot of time there as kids. Since we were city kids I loved looking at all the old farm stuff. I'm very nostalgic about it all.

But now, the land is still there... but nothing else. After grandpa's retirement that farm and several surrounding ones were sold to the Hutterites. Nothing against them, but all the buildings demolished of course, to make way for whatever new buildings they needed.

After my grandfather's funeral a few miles away, I asked my brother to drive us past the old farmstead one last time. But it wasn't the same any more. I would have loved to buy that place now, but it's gone and I can't.

[goldensmom]

I often drive through the town where my great grandparents moved to in 1900. I drive past their old homestead - the place they lived, worked and raised a family. Others are residing in a new house on the property and they have no idea of the life my great grandparents once lived there. All signs of my great grandparents are gone - the old farmhouse, the barn and out buildings, the gardens and the unpainted picket fence.

The brevity of life became real to me, however, when the last of my parents (both deceased) close friends died. It really struck me that I am now 'the adult'.

Psalm 144:4 “Man is like a breath, his days are like a fleeting shadow.”

[iris lily]

Life is beautiful largely because it IS fleeting! It's so precious.

[Bronxboy]

Interesting thread. I've thought the things we think will always be there, but are now gone, a number of times lately.

I rode the subway to the Bronx from midtown Manhattan shortly after my mother died, and was shocked to realize that I was probably taking that ride for the last time.

[goldensmom]

Life is beautiful largely because it IS fleeting! It's so precious.

Excellent perspective!!

[Mrs-M]

I remember a similar experience to yours Pinkytoe. I would have been in the single digits still (age wise) when two longtime neighbours (a married couple passed away). They lived long healthy lives, yet their absence forever altered the way we all knew the neighbourhood as.

Anyhow, their old dilapidated home sat idle for just a short before some people purchased it, had it raised, then built a new home in its place. It all happened so fast, yet to this day I still remember the old couples home as if it were still standing today.

Now, with so many years having past, I realize more than ever how temporary everything is in life, and how unimportant and trivial it all really is (in the big scheme of things).

[catherine]

Yes, everything passes SO quickly. Sometimes it becomes apparent when I hear about an actor who was well known in the 70s or 80s dying--the fact that someone fresh in my mind as being young has aged and died really hits me sometimes with just how fleetingly the decades spin past.

Or I think about my MIL who died last summer--and it seems like such a short time ago that she was actually the age I am now! Now dead at 85! That freaks me out a little, too.

I have written in this forum about my treasured summers on the beach in CT with my greataunt in a beautiful cottage that she built in 1910 and really never changed--so that when she died, the sink was the old fashioned sink, the floors were the old-fashioned linoleum. She actually had a toilet in a room off the porch, so you had to go out the kitchen door and then into another door to go to the bathroom! And the cottage was not winterized, so it smelled of salt and timber perennially.

Well, we had to give it up when she died :( And for years and years I'd even have nightmares about it being torn down. I've imagined that the new owners would come in and insulate it and make it bland and and strip it of its charm, and remove the bathroom and update the kitchen with granite and stainless steel. It made me sick to think about it.

Last fall, I went on a road trip with my daughter up the coast of CT, and so I took her to the cottage. No cars were in the driveway, so I actually went up the steps of the porch and looked in the front windows! And hurray!!! It's STILL uninsulated! Except for the furniture, it looked just the same! After all these years. Not that it matters--it's not my house, but I felt my happy memories were still intact and touchable in some way. They did update the kitchen, but not in an obnoxious way.

I try not to fall into nostalgia because it doesn't do any good. I don't want to be one of those older people who repeats stories ad nauseum. I'd rather just stay right where I am, and let the past fall where it may.

[CathyA]

These stories sort of remind me of one of my favorite movies......"A Trip to Bountiful". The older woman (Geraldine Page) just wants to get back to her old home. The scene of her on the porch is very moving.

[catherine]

These stories sort of remind me of one of my favorite movies......"A Trip to Bountiful". The older woman (Geraldine Page) just wants to get back to her old home. The scene of her on the porch is very moving.

I'm going to check that movie out, Cathy--sounds great.

One of my absolutely favorite movies is House of Sand and Fog--same kind of theme of how our homes are so emblematic of our hopes and dreams in life.

[puglogic]

For everything I've been pained to watch pass away into another form in my life, there has been another something that was actually HEALING for me to pass away. The house where I was abused as a child, when I saw it had been bulldozed and turned into something else, was an example of a transformation that was positive. The transformation of our back yard, once someone's beloved "party pit" for friends, fire, beer cans and all, transformed into a beautiful garden that feeds me.

I treasure every day of this strange and unpredictable dance, sometimes sad, sometimes joyful.

[Valley]

For everything I've been pained to watch pass away into another form in my life, there has been another something that was actually HEALING for me to pass away. The house where I was abused as a child, when I saw it had been bulldozed and turned into something else, was an example of a transformation that was positive. The transformation of our back yard, once someone's beloved "party pit" for friends, fire, beer cans and all, transformed into a beautiful garden that feeds me.

I treasure every day of this strange and unpredictable dance, sometimes sad, sometimes joyful.

This sounds so much like the scene in Forrest Gump where Jenny gets to see her old place taken down. I hope that you will continue to have some peace from your abusive past!

[CathyA]

catherine........I guess I have to "warn" you that I like slow moving films.......the ones that are a slice of life.. So you might find that movie boring, but I really liked it. Geraldine Page was perfect in that role.

puglogic.........I'm glad that you had that freeing feeling when you saw your old house gone.
For me, my mind keeps going back to the house and property that I was mistreated in. I think its an attempt to be able to do it all over. As awful as my father was to me, I guess I felt comforted and soothed by the woods and creek around the house. They (woods and creek) are who I would go to for comfort.

[pony mom]

My former home was lovingly and painstakingly changed from the worst house on the street to the nicest by my parents over an almost 50 year period. We moved from there 5 years ago and I have no desire to see our old home. The new owners don't take care of the yard, the shrubs that my mom pruned by hand branch by branch have died and the lawn is full of weeds. I shudder to think what the inside looks like. Someone who lives across the street calls us from time to time and tells us what's going on and my parents say they don't care--it's not theirs anymore, but it must break their heart. My dreams still take place there, my home of 40 years.

Our new condo is in a development that was farmland. On Google maps you can see what an area looked like years ago (I think from the 90s) and it's sad to see all that beautiful land built up. I'd love to go back in time, say 30 years or so, and just drive around all the places I know today, just to see what they were like then.