End of one story
says the brief WhatsApp message from my youngest brother in Australia.
“Sold” says the sign plastered over the “For Sale” billboard in front of the house.
Norfolk pine is down and almost gone, is the caption below the other photo. I see the stumps of the walnut and fig trees in the photo.
Funny, the house now looks old, sad and tired. In the promo photo it was bright, lit-up and almost shining.
I’ve just unsubscribed from a mailing list aimed at people here in Europe, mainly German-speaking, who want to emigrate – “Auswandern”. My comment when asked why was that I have “emigrated to Austria, from Australia and lived two years in America”.
I’ve also just read Todd Burrier’s post and he suggests deciding where you want to live.
I’ve always believed I am in the right place at the right time. Lately I’ve been addressing the fact that I live in an upstairs apartment without a garden or balcony. I’ve shared in my live-video broadcasts to Facebook that in fact I have parks and gardens all around me here in the middle of Vienna. Yesterday I even spent over half an hour walking barefoot in the grass around a large figtree which reminded me of our figtree at home.
Memories
All memories of a life gone by.
The house we lived in when growing up and then left behind to start our own lives.