For one week I am responsible for my parents’ home and garden. I look after the plants and the dog, I do familiar tasks and still I feel I have become a stranger to this place.
How much unfamiliarity does my perception of home allow, I ask myself, taking my own changes for granted.

I begin to understand that these cracks in my recognition reflect the passing of time and trigger memories. It is the rediscovery of thoughts nearly lost that makes me doubt that home can be a place of the present.