Permanence

Eleven years ago I was uprooted from all that I new, all that was familiar and comfortable to me. My parents had built a house and we had to move away from the town I lived in. This occurred while I was nearing the end of middle school, an unpleasant memory to begin with. I was in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people. 

This new house became my home, my constant. It would be the setting of many happy memories through high school and college. It was the place I could return to and find my center. 

I haven't lived in that house for over a year now. My wife and I have found our own place to call home. But that house was still part of my home. 

My parents have had to move away from that house, much to their dissatisfaction. But life has pushed them in a new direction. I told my mother not to cry, that it is only four walls, that a home is made by those we are with. 

This house was my constant. But it is only four walls, it holds no physical permanence in my life. I feel as though I should cry and weep at the change that has came, but it is only four walls. It shall always be that past constant, but as the days go by I cannot forget that life is always changing that there is no physical permanace for me. This house shall be only a memory.