It always amazes me to realize all that takes places inside houses. People all around me are living out their emotional lives inside houses. Before we lived in this house other people lived inside this house. Our home was built in 1952, the year I was born. I wonder who the people were that first lived inside this house.
We have neighbor's across the street from us who have lived in their house for 50 years. I do not know the lives of our neighbors. Carol right now is organizing a neighborhood block party. Carol wants everyone on our street to meet one another. In America one can live next door to people that they have never talked to or wave to.
I rarely talk to anyone on our street. I did ask our next door neighbor last night if I could cut down a small tree that is next to one of our tall trees. I told this neighbor that this tree in time will kill the older tree if it is not cut down now. I think this was only the third time in the 25 years we have been neighbors I have spoken words to this neighbor. I have watched this neighbor raise their two boys and grow old.
My hope is that I will die inside this house. I want a green burial. If I had my way I would be buried in our back yard. But I know someday Carol and I won't be inside this house living out our days. Somebody else will be living inside this house wondering who the people who lived here before them were like. Carol and will remain unknown to them.