To Everything There Is a Season

“There is nothing more sad or glorious than generations changing hands.” – John Mellencamp, circa 1985

This quote has been stuck in my head for the last few weeks. While my maternal grandfather has been dead for almost 17 years and my maternal grandmother has been dead for over 2 years, my parents and my relatives have kept their home in reasonable good shape. However, in less than two months, my maternal grandparents home will be gone. The hill where I played football with my cousins, the ravine where I played GI Joe with my childhood friends, the old rusted swing set next to the corn crib, the smokehouse that help provide food to my family when times were tough, the shop where my grandfather kept every car or tractor part that he bought, and the home where I felt safe no matter how crazy the got will be razed or reduced to rumble and in its place a new wing of a suburban concentration camp will be built. The generation of my grandparents will officially come to an end.


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