For Sale

I was fussing around with Google Images last night when I came across quite a surprise.

The images of New England on the screen prompted me to one of those crazy and usually fruitless internet searches. I typed in "Deepwood Rd." (for eight years, my address in Easton, Connecticut), with hardly a hope of seeing anything remotely interesting. Never did I expect to see what I saw:

The very first image available was that of my old house. Sure, it looked a little different, eleven years of details added and details removed. It looked a little older (or is it my eyes that see a little older?). It looked a little less "mine". But it still looked great and it still looked like home.

The owner, however, was making the same mistake that, had it been in my power, I would have avoided at all costs back then. He had put it up FOR SALE.

I'm quite aware that we should not define ourselves by our possessions and that life is in constant metamorphosis, constant increment. But this house is different. It owned me from 1989 to 1997 and it still has claim to some of the best memories in my life.

Isn´t it curious how we can put a price on memories?