"Yesterday is Never Lost -

As Long As We Remember"

That's the inscription under the painting at my Grandma's apt. It's and oil painting they had done of the farmhouse my Mom grew up in. It was dimolished a few years ago. Both my mom and grandma have bricks that went back to get.

I always marvel at how we get attached to places, when we know that the physical building or location will never be like it was without the people who made it home. It's a hard lesson to learn, and I think that the nostalgic heart can't ever let go. But that can often be a good thing, I suppose.