Everything Eventually Goes Away...

 The other day we drove by a pile of scraps that used to be a home, a place where someone once lived. I've thought about the remains of someone's dreams several times lately. Because, in the end--either the end of a particular home or the planet itself--all things will eventually go away.

I'm not the oldest person on the planet, but I've been around long enough to see once usable buildings be torn down and replaced by something else. Where we used to live, the land is so valuable, almost any home no matter how old/new is secondary in value to the land on which it sits. When we sold a few years ago, the home itself was valued at the price it took to build it seventeen years earlier. What went up in value was the land. 

Lets fast forward another fifty years. Will the home we built twenty years ago still exist? I still love that house, even though it's not too practical in many ways. I can see someone coming in, bulldozing it, hauling away the debris, and starting over.

The home in which we now live in two years old. How long will it stand? Twenty years? Fifty? A hundred? I have no idea. One thing that gives me hope is those who wish to preserve homes, buildings, anything from the past. They prevent, at least for a while, a home becoming a pile of wood, plastics, wires, and other materials.

When we drove away from our little cul-de-sac for the last time, we bid farewell to a house we designed and help build. We gave up all future decisions about the land and especially, the house. I'd hate to see it go, even though I can see why someone would want to replace it. I'd also hate to to see it fall into ruin.

Then again, if we lived forever, we'd see everything, every home, vehicle, tree, and rock change and devolve into dust. We can't stop it, only delay the inevitable.