Memories better than reality?

The picture of my hometown in my mind is different than reality.
I recently took a walk through my hometown. I went down a street I had often traveled as a child and teenager. It looked a lot different than what I remembered.
I didn’t recognize many of the houses or people. No one recognized me. I felt like a stranger in the place where I had spent half of my life.
Many of the street signs were faded. Some houses had fallen in a state of disrepair.
The elementary school is bigger now. They combined the two elementary schools and closed the other one. My second cousin is the principal now.
The park is nearly the same. The tennis court where my mom, sister and I often played is overgrown with weeds. The nets are gone.
The skating rink roof collapsed due to the weight of the snow a couple of years ago. The building was eventually torn down. All that is left is a concrete slab with a for sale sign.
On many Friday or Saturday nights when I was a child, my mom dropped me off there. I skated with my friends until it closed. We loved to eat the French fries and dance to our favorite songs. I had purple and white roller skates with pompoms.
The grocery store we used to walk to was torn down and replaced with a gas station. The pop machine that dispensed glass bottles is long gone, too.
I sometimes wish the landmarks I remember from my childhood could have been preserved. If they remained, maybe it would easier to remember my life there in that tiny town.
But, I guess change is just a part of life. Without change, there is no progress. Without progress, there is no future.
I guess I just can’t go home again[[In-content Ad]]