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“Someday, your parents' house will cease to be your parents' house. The house will still stand, but it will no longer be a home; it will be a frozen memory, an echo of what you once were. Someday, your parents' house will no longer smell of Sundays, nor of family meals, nor of the calm after a long day. That day, you will understand that the house was never the house—it was always them.

Because your parents' house was never truly the walls, the furniture, or the physical place; it was them:

their presence, their scent, their meals, their voices, and their warmth.

Someday the house will still stand, but it will become an empty echo, a frozen memory.” https://x.com/GustavoAdolf_/status/2062511773131899235

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