Do you see that empty space in the picture where a house used to be? That’s where our second house in Pensacola was — the one where the “who-moved-the-belt incident” took place.
After writing about it Saturday, I suddenly became curious whether the house was still there. According to this satellite image from Apple Maps, it’s just white sand where that house stood.
I don’t know why, but this makes me feel as though I’ve lost something. The memories are still there, but there was something more tangible about them when I could have gone to the house and shown you the specific places where my story took place.
Why does it bother us so much to lose places with which we associate our past?