My father sent an email with photos he’d taken while visiting his hometown recently. Most were photos of family members but he also took a couple photos of the apartment where my parents lived when they were first married. This was effectively my first home, if I’m not mistaken. I’ve seen black and white photos from the time we lived there in the past. I’m pretty sure my parents have shown us the house when visiting family too. But it was kind of interesting to see it’s still standing and looking pretty decent after all these years. At least it looks okay from the outside.

I was just a toddler when we last lived there so obviously have no memories of the place. But I have reminisced about other places I’ve lived over the years and it seems so many of the memories are fading. And it’s not just places either. I was flipping through my high school yearbooks the other day. I recognised only a few faces in the sea of senior photos. The names triggered better recollections. Those I remember most would have been in my home room. I can’t say I knew them personally all that well , having been one of the quiet, shy students hidden at the back of the class. But at the time, they were extremely familiar to me and it seemed I would remember them forever. I was wrong, of course!