I’ve come to realize that nothing on this earth remains the same forever.

  Of course, recent events in the country and the world continue to teach us that lesson on a daily basis.

  But that’s not exactly what I’m talking about.

  Many of us have experienced a sense of loss before, whether we moved to a new house, changed jobs, or soaked in the last day of high school before graduation. In my case,  I learned earlier this year that a restaurant in my hometown of Conyers, where I worked for more than 10 years, would be torn down.

  In a way, I wasn’t surprised. I haven’t worked there since 2005, but I know the area has changed considerably over the years. I was just a baby when my family moved to that area, and everything looked much different from what it does today.

  Times change. I get that.

  However, it was a bit jarring, last month, to see bulldozers in what used to be the parking lot of the restaurant where I worked. Even if I knew it was coming, I’m not quite sure I was ready for it when it happened.

  The place that was once a fixture in my life was soon reduced to a pile of rubble. My understanding is that the space will become a new location for well-known restaurant chain.

  I learned a lot about myself while working there. Although I’m a different person now from the one who first entered that building, it’s strange knowing I no longer have the option.

  When I first started working there, I was unsure of myself, as is often the case for me when venturing into new territory. I worked in several capacities within the first three years – including serving food and washing dishes – before eventually waiting tables, which I did for seven years.

  Interacting with people every day was so much fun. My favorite occasion during the week was Kids Night, because I could release my inner goofball and get decent tips in return.

  My co-workers and I made a lot of memories over the years. Some of those memories were good, and others, not so much. Whether we were cracking jokes to get through the day, or lamenting a large group’s arrival two minutes before closing time, we could at least take comfort in the knowledge that we weren’t alone.

  I knew that place like the back of my hand, and I like to think I had the respect of both co-workers and managers. There’s a certain feeling of comfort that came with knowing someone is happy to see you when you walk in the door.

  I’ve also never moved so fast in my life as I did on those busy days. Certainly, there’s no way I could do that today.

  During my time there, that restaurant became my home, and I made a lot of friends. Some were my co-workers once upon a time. Others were regular customers with whom I managed to stay in touch when I started working in newspapers.

  A few of those friends – in both groups – are like family to me even today, and I’m eternally grateful for the connections I’ve made with them.

  Thankfully, those connections will remain with me even though the building itself is gone. Even though I’ll never be able to go to that particular “home” again, it will always be a part of me.