As far as the big/little things are, what might be a little thing to one person can be a big thing for someone else. If you don't see someone for a while, it might (or might not) be a big thing. But if that person has died, it's definitely a much bigger thing for that person, and his or her family. I'm thinking my friend Kevin. While I hadn't seen or spoken with him in several years, and while it might have been a small thing in the grand scheme of the world, it was still sort-of a big thing for us (my family and me), and definitely a much bigger thing for him and what's left of his family.
There were reasons we hadn't spoken for a while, but that's neither here nor there. I figured we had known each other for several decades. He's also the very last person I knew from when we both drove cab whom I had had even the slightest contact with, so with his death, it's like an entire chapter of my life is closed.
My sons and I have lived in the same house in what seems like forever. While some of the neighbors are the same ones who lived in the neighborhood when we moved in, the majority have moved. I can point to a house, and remember that the guy who drove a race car on the local circuit and worked on the car on weekends lived there, then sold the house to S. and C., who had their twins while they lived there, who then sold it to B., who...Well, you get the idea. And while some of the change, no matter how minor, is understandable and do-able, some of it can be almost disconcerting.
I used to walk/run for years. It's easy enough exercise: you put on your shorts and a t-shirt, sneakers, and head out the door, work up a sweat, then come home and get on with your day. I even blogged about it for a while.
I'm trying to get back into it, though I haven't done it near as much as I used to. When one hasn't exercised for a while, it takes time to ease back into.
For a while, my walks included bringing Osha along. (I've posted about Osha here in the past, including "A Tail of Two Cats (and a Dog and another Cat.") She was a sweetheart; it was tough when she passed.
Osha
When I wasn't walking Osha, I'd pass by a nearby stable and house on maybe 10 acres or so of land. For a while, there were quite a few horses stabled there. Then, slowly, the numbers dwindled until there was only one horse, a graying old mare named Smoky.
She would frequently be grazing in the middle of one field. One morning, I brought along a carrot, and managed to get her to come over to the fence, where she received the carrot for her troubles.
"Don't forget to bring a carrot for the horse," Paul would tell me when I'd start lacing up the sneakers. It even got to the point where Paul would ask if we had carrots whenever we'd go to the store.
Finally, the stable started filling up with horses, which made the scenery nicer during my run. (Smoky was still the only horse who got carrots, though.)
Maybe two years ago, I noticed there were no longer any horses at the stable. Smoky had died, according to one of the old men who worked at the stable. And then, the house started looking rough. The city bought it when the renter could no longer afford it, and the owner couldn't sell it. The house got demolished and slowly, the stable started falling apart. It was a little disheartening.
Another change, though I've posted it here once or twice: Paul has passed, as have numerous family members.
Paul
A friend rented our spare room for a short while, years before he quit driving cab, before his health took a dive. Family members were here, then moved; jobs, gotten and lost; scenery changes.
Thank goodness for memories...
