A House Fifty Years Ago, A House Tomorrow

On this day in 1976 America celebrated its Bicentennial birthday. And my family had moved to a house that was less than a year old. We had moved into the house in the late fall of 1975. Today I am living in that house after having left it for over twenty years. You might notice that I refer to this place as “a house” or “that house”. I don't refer to it as a home. I am not certain that this building is, or ever really was, a home. There is a big differentiation between a house and a home. That likely isn't a revelation for most people. In fact, many understand that home isn't tied to a specific building. Instead, home is where you have a sense to being complete instead of just existing or enduring. On this day, the 250th birthday of this country, I now know that the Bicentennial was the beginning of the end of my family. And, in an odd way, that end is similar to the state of this country. My father had a vision for his family. A vision that he felt very strongly about. He wanted to…