The landmarks from my childhood are disappearing.
During college, I worked in a pet store in a little strip mall. The store was owned by a very nice couple. They were great people. I quit during my senior year of college to work for free (AKA - student teaching). Shortly after I left, the owner was forced to file bankruptcy. The shop closed. It broke my heart to see all of my friend lose their jobs. I never went to that strip mall again. When the pet store closed, my connection to that place and time were lost.
Shortly before John and I moved to NJ, the house I spent the majority of my teenage years in burned down. Although my family no longer rented that house, it was still sad to look at the charred remains. After the house was torn down, I often found myself driving past the vacant lot. Without my house on the block, nothing seemed the same. The neighborhood was suddenly foreign to me.
Yesterday I called my mother to wish her a happy Mother's Day. She told me that the elementary school I attended is closing permanently at the end of this month due to declining enrollment and budget cuts. I was shocked.
It feels like the time I spent in Kentucky is being erased. My house is gone, my work is gone, my school is gone. Pretty soon, all evidence of my childhood will disappear completely.