This is probably an appropriate word for me this week as there were a couple of things that happened that had to do with my family. I bumped into a woman that retired from my neighbourhood bank and she asked the situation that I would rather not talk about but I just told her it’s the same. I went out with my former neighbour for coffee and she mentioned that the guy that bought our house (who also owns the house beside) wants to tear his house down for an addition. Because he has to get approval from city hall they have to send out a notice to the neighbours of the zoning meeting. She said the lady down the street is up in arms. The interesting thing is I didn’t really feel anything one way or the other. For about a year after I moved I avoided going past the house because of the memories. I also don’t meet my former neighbour too often because to me it’s part of my past. When Mom died it was weird to think of the house I grew up in being an inheritance. The Property Brothers have a new show called Forever Home and they talk about how a house is just walls…a home is what it becomes. When you strip it of all the stuff it becomes a house again.
It’s sad that when we think of inheritance we think of money. While we handle all the paperwork it’s easy to forget that it’s about a lot more than that.
Every time I get my haircut I’m reminded of my cowlick that I got from my Dad. The grey hair that was also passed on since every one of Dad’s siblings went grew early. A woman from church told me I must get my sense of humour from my Dad.
The other day they had a segment on The Social about the fact that people don’t sit at the dining room table anymore. They eat at the island or in front of the tv. I’m sure a lot of the values that I grew up with would seem old fashioned now but there is nothing wrong with good manners.
There are things that I got from my parents. Dad was stubborn. Mom was sentimental. Janet was goofy. An inheritance that connects me to them.