I rang the doorbell and heard the familiar buzz granting me access into the house. I went up the staircase lined with black and white wallpaper which is still in perfect condition, not an edge in sight peeling. The door opens and the white tile is sparkling. Everything looks just like I remember. Aside from a new stove top the kitchen is the same, the carpet is the same-worn on the staircase where me and my siblings slid down one too many times, couches still perfectly preserved in plastic. Grandma Barbara hands me some photo albums to look through with my sister Mindy while she cooks up some of her delicious food. When we finished looking through all of the albums I put them away and noticed some toys that we used to play with as kids: the Bingo wheel my brother and sisters would spin, the building set we would fight over to make towering masterpieces, the hanging curtains I wore when I pretend married my childhood crush. It's all still there. Even though I hadn't been to my grandma's house in a while before that visit, it felt like I had just been there yesterday and that no time had passed at all. We live in such a fast paced world where everything changes so quickly and were constantly looking forward to the next great thing, its easy to forget how sometimes the unchanged can be so nice.
