I took this picture on my way home from the dentist’s office this morning. A car is in the shop, and I rode my bike instead of driving. It felt good to get the exercise. Perhaps I’ll have to make it more of a habit to get myself around on two wheels rather than four.
The movie theater in question has been abandoned for several years now. But once it was important to me, since it was the place where my oldest daughter saw her first movie. The movie was Shrek, and some internet research indicates that it came out in 2001. Eleven years ago seems like a long time and, for my then-two year old daughter, it’s practically a lifetime.
I can still remember how exciting it was for me to take her up the escalator and find a spot to sit down. She still loves going to movies, but her friends are now the companions of choice. But when she was two, there was nobody else to go with but her mom and I. Time moves so very quickly.
The theater has been an eyesore for some time, and it will eventually get torn down. But until that happens it will continue to sit there, silently taunting me with the memories that I’ll hold onto for as long as my memory allows.
My daughter, and her younger sister, will keep right on growing, just like the weeds that now ring this deserted theater. I can’t stop that, and I’m not even sure that I would want to. But holding onto the past, in whatever tangible forms that I can, is something that I will always do, in this space as well as in my heart.