Thoughts
My parents have a new phone number. For the first time since they've lived in their house...the house I grew up in. The old phone number is...gone.
For some reason, it's hit me kind of hard. A phone number. Maybe it's symbolic. Home used to be so safe and consistent. And it's not that it's not safe now. It's just so different. Everything has changed. And not all for the better. That number was the only part of my childhood left. That and some moldy toys in the basement.
It's like I took a walk and came back to a completely different place. Some sort of shadow of what used to be.
I guess life moves on with or without our permission.
