Do you remember that apartment?
Earlier this week I received a message that my house had burned down. Not my current house. Rather an apartment building that I had lived in back in the early 1960s. A long time ago but I remembered the building well. At least parts of the building. I can destroyed many features and tell you about the various stairs but for some reason I have no memory of the bathroom. The one room in a house that I would have used every single day. Just a blank spot. Memory is in constant. Perhaps next week I will have total recall our building that no longer exists. Or maybe not. I’m one of those people that can tell you every place I’ve ever lived. I am a resource for my siblings. At least, I think so. Given that the building is now in ruins I will not be going back to fact check. And given that the building contained apartments, I have little faith in my ability to find images from whatever. People do not stay in apartment buildings for their whole life usually. I do know that living there must have affected my family because they avoided apartment buildings thereafter. Seriously, my mother never lived in another apartment building. Odd because we did not become suddenly rich enough to own homes. We always found rental houses until such time as we bought the one that my family still owns. I wonder what happened in that building. What changed the way my family regarded potential houses. At least it did not burn down while we lived there so that is a blessing. My very first home has been gone for many decades because it burned down after we had moved out. Going forward, I hope this house will resist as well. I rather liked the idea of descendants stopping by decades from now to say that’s where my grand father lived. The story of blog posts and family discussions.
