Changes

Inevitably, as a senior, one not only think of where they are but how they got there. Senior years do not make you smarter or better. It is just an accumulation of what you have been through. In most cases that makes for a better person. In other, it just makes you a wealth of experience that usually does not influence those who patiently listen.

In the life we live there are segments that feature prominently in one’s memory. The places you lived, the work you did and the romantic experiences you had or wish you had. Lately, maybe because winter seems so long and restrictive, staying in the compound urges a trip to the past. I have driven through the old neighborhood that I shared with my parents and brother feeling that it still seemed unimproved if not gotten worse. Driven by corrupt government officials that cared less about their constituents and more about their personal gain, the block seemed old and tired. It deserves more but someone had to care and they didn’t.

I recently found myself drawn to my last workplace. Unfortunately, it is a morgue consisting of an empty building with a blockade in the parking lot meant to stop the curious from recalling what they once felt part of but is now locked out of. It is just a building. The farm across the street where I went for my weekly fruit and vegetables has been leveled making way for a new super store.

Maybe it is best. The building I worked in was slowly deteriorating from age. Facilities maintenance is not one of the things a corporation wants to spend its money on. It doesn’t add to its sales, but rather takes away from its bottom line. Its like who wants to spend money to repair a tire when you would rather use it to buy a nice dress or dinner out.

Things change and in most cases, it is for the better. It is the experiences I had and the people I am still in touch with that make it real. I live for that and through that. As far as the romantic experiences unless they are with the love of your life (which happily they are), they seem so inconsequential except to say “what was I thinking”. As far as they are concerned, they are better left to distant memories.

 

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