They say the only thing constant in life is change. I guess I never really thought about that until recently. As I sit here on the porch listening to the rain, I look around and I realize just how much my life has changed over the past two years or so. My home has changed, my family has changed, my friendships have changed. They also say change is good...but damn, is it hard.
For awhile life is as it was and then all is quiet again. I look around and it's just me. The houses are gone, and those who once lived here are now just a memory. All that's left of those days is Uncle Andy's house, remains of the crumbled root cellar and an old dog box at the edge of the woods were Hound Dog once lived...and then there's me, one of the last few things that remain here. Like the old wishing well in Uncle Andy's yard, I stand alone. I never knew it was possible for a place once filled with so much love to feel so empty. It's an emptiness that I can't explain
Then I hear the crick rolling by, the wind blowing through the trees and the rain on the porch roof and I'm reminded that I'm not alone. Mom is in the wind that brushes my face. I hear Dad's voice in the babbling of the crick. All those that have gone before me from this place are still here. They are here in my heart and as long as I'm here, they will be too and just like the crick, I'll keep rolling along.