Last Friday - December 11 - marked 25 years since we moved into our apartment.
It's a long time to have lived in one place. I think I have an image of myself as someone who's not particularly attached to a place, so I'm surprised to realise I've lived here so long. So much has happened in that time. We came here as a family - parents and two children. But the children have grown up and moved away and the marriage unravelled. When we came here I was part of the 'middle generation' - my parents and parents-in-law were all still alive and we seemed to be in the centre of all the comings and goings of family relationships. I'm now part of the oldest generation and inevitably the centre of relationships is shifting.
Lots of birthdays and Christmases, and some births, deaths, marriages and separations.
We will sell the apartment next year. For me, this won't be a huge change as I'm going to move to a smaller apartment in the same building. I'll have the same neighbourhood and will keep all the things I like about the suburb in which I live.
But, inevitably, it will feel like the end of an era for our family. In fact, it will be the end of an era. I'm pleased that my daughter, son-in-law and grand-daughter will share this last Christmas in the apartment with me. It's impossible to dwell only on the past and not look to the future when you have small children around.