My Brother’s House and Changes.

Before I moved back home to take care of Fmom, my youngest brother and his wife and son lived here. They had lived in the college married housing and it was very small. When Fmom retired at age 72, she had gotten to the point of not wanting to be in the house by herself, especially at night. When they moved here, my nephew was a baby, and whenever I came home it was always good to see how he was growing. Although they lived with Fmom they were buying the house across the street from her. They had been renting it out for a number of years, but when their last renters left, they decided to renovate it and finally move in. Now I have to admit my s-I-l has very good taste, and when they redid their house, they did a wonderful job. They had lived in it for a about three years, and then my brother got transferred by his company, and my sil got a better job where they moved to. They sold their house themselves and really didn’t have a problem with getting it sold.

So yesterday I look out the window and see another sold sign on the front lawn. The people who had bought it from my brother, who I still considered new, had already moved on. They were college teachers, and I guess they got better jobs. The new people I have no idea who they are, but I do plan to introduce myself. I have a few neighbors, who find it too much trouble to say hello, wave or even nod, so I’m hoping these neighbors are friendly.

This got me to thinking about how much this town has changed. It seems we constantly have new people coming in. Our college had a record enrollment this year, and you’re always seeing new faces. Of course some of the new faces to me were kids that went to school with my younger brothers and nephews and nieces. They’ve lived here and grew up while I was gone.

I know I started out about my brother and sil’s house, but I guess today is about the changes that keep happening around here. We have a little bakery downtown that serves breakfast and lunch. I go there from time to time to pick up something for Fmom and myself. I got into the line last week, and they do have long lines, and noticed the different people there. I saw white, black, young, old, well dress and farmers out of the fields. I saw one kid from the college with a spiked orange Mohawk, and thought how things had changed after 30 years of being away. Then I thought I’m glad to see these changes and hope they’ll continue. I hope I’m around for another 20 years to see how things keep changing, and I hope things just keep getting better.