"Progress" is bulldozing the only childhood home I ever had and replacing it with a monstrous structure 100 times its size, which leaves behind no evidence of what stood there before it was demolished. There is a so-called "rumor" flying around my parents' neighborhood that some big-wig commercial real estate guy is wanting to buy out all the properties North of Greenbrook Elementary school, clearing out all the land, all to erect some huge, ugly warehouses, turning my old neighborhood, my HOME, my one and only home for the first 20 years of my life, into an industrial park. Upon first hearing this, I felt a little nervous...I was thinking somewhere to the tune of maybe 10 years from now, if that. Then I talked to my Mom last night, and she said the current rumor is that this is going to come to fruition within the next 2 years. Gone was the feeling of nervousness, and in came the feeling of SICK! Sure, it's been talked about for several years now that my parents want to move, possibly in the country, build their "dreamhouse", afterall, my old neighborhood's NOT what it once was. Many houses are up for sale, and more becoming rentals, surrounding my parents with God-knows-who. But you know, I could handle my parents moving away from there, knowing I could at least still drive past there, knowing that's where I grew up & show the kids, ya know? So when I was awoken a few moments ago at 3:55 a.m. with a bathroom call, tears came to my eyes as I started to remember things. That house is where I was brought home from the hospital, not that I remember that, but my Mom surely does. That's been her house since she was 21 (the same age I was when me & Michael bought our first house), and I know she has a million & one memories there, too. I celebrated every single Christmas, every single birthday there. I had the same bedroom for 20 years...every supper in the same kitchen, at the same table...so many memories of playing with my sister in our bedrooms, whether it was Barbies, a game (or two or three) of Uno, playing in the makeup, or listening to the radio and just talking...playing outside, the swimming pool, even the next door neighbors that had too many dogs that barked all night...playing with our pets, playing on the backporch, swinging on the porch swing for hours upon hours, playing school in my Dad's shop, my niece was even brought home from the hospital there, our beloved pets are buried back behind my Dad's shop. I had my first REAL meaningful kiss on that front porch, and countless others in the driveway. Every happy time, every fun time, every heartbreak, every fight, it all happened there. How can I even fathom the day when I have to say goodbye to that house for the last time? I know things change...nothing can ever stay the same forever, but this one cuts like a knife. How could I ever even drive past there again after that house is gone? I couldn't...I just couldn't. I just have to keep telling myself this...real estate people can get filthy rich...demolition workers can tear down my home and construction workers can build something massive in its place, but they can NEVER, EVER bulldoze my memories.