…and Katrina takes more of my childhood

This week as I was driving out to my parents’ house I caught sight of a building being torn down. It was an old, long-closed shopping mall that once housed a grocery store and several retail units I visited in my childhood. It was beautiful–looked like a Spanish hacienda/mission down to the stucco and roof tiles. I would drive past it, thinking one day I would get the money to buy it and restore it for use and bring some much needed commerce to my old neighborhood.

Now it’s gone, as in halfway down to the slab gone. The hardest thing about this experience is living with all of the change that 2005 Event That Shall Not Be Named has brought. Sure, it doesn’t affect my day-to-day existence, but seeing old landmarks somehow comforts me as I move through the city. I wish I’d known could’ve taken a picture. It’s a silly thing, resisting change. My parents were able to renovate my childhood home, but except for the brick exterior everything looks vastly different from when I grow up. I only have the mental pictures since any photos we had of the old exterior were destroyed…but even the mental pictures are shaky in the face of these new additions and renovations. I’m losing my sense of home and it makes me uncomfortable. It was bad enough feeling like a nomad in the months immediately following; the only comfort was focusing on a return to the familiar. And while intellectually I accept that progress and rebuilding are necessary, that kid inside is mourning her old haunts.

UPDATE: Found a pic–not the greatest, but it’s a piece of memory….


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