I heard it took extra dynamite to destroy the foundations of the old Henkel Flour mills, when the Detroit riverfront docks were being renovated. It pleases me that my great-grandfather’s legacy was so stubborn.
Odd, since I so often want to smash the past and break that rigid shell of pretending we were all shiny happy people. I want to get to the real and painful stories underneath.
This is not to say I don’t grieve the past. When what seemed so solid falls away like so much superfluous skin, I clutch and cling, railing against the tide, imagining I must have done something wrong.
Perhaps it’s not really appropriate to get “comfortable” with “change.” Once I am comfortable, I want things to hold still.