In like a Lamb, out like a Lion

Change is the one constant. No matter where you are in life, no matter what job you have, no matter how big or small your family is, no matter what you like to do, CHANGE is inevitable. (Yes, Leonard, that one's for you.)

I just learned that a business that has been in the family for three generations was finally sold. Actually, I just learned that the business was placed on the market and sold--bit of a surprise there, even if we've all been waiting for it to finally happen. The one remaining business, the one remaining commercial tie to small, dilapidated hometown is at last gone. It would be easy to get maudlin about the memories, the work, the hours spent, the familiar sounds and smells, the people and the equipment, everything that has now moved on. But life moves on. Finally, my family is out from under the back-breaking, never-ending all-consuming beast that was The Business (my father wisely decided to go his own route 40 years ago and we've been thankful for that ever since). But it's a piece of life that's ended, a constant that's gone. Will there be others to replace it? Sure. Is it a piece of my history, my childhood that's gone. Sure.

But change is inevitable.

I had a conversation with a meth-addict last week. (He was doing community service at a political rally where I was working.) He knew he was in trouble. He knew that he wasn't likely to make it through rehab. He'd lost his children, his jobs, his homes and he knew that he probably didn't have much left of a future. He didn't even have much left from his past. But rambling through the winding turns in his brain, he spit out one bit of 'wisdom:' no matter where he was, no matter that he wasn't ever going to see his family again, no-one, nothing could take away his memories. (OK, heavy drug use will kills those pretty quickly, but I got his point.) Basically, shut up, get back to work, and know that you can always close your eyes and remember the happy times of the past.

Now get back to work, slackers!


CYA-
Shawn