I wrote recently about how I finally got around to getting my car registered in the state of Texas. As part of that process, I had to submit the title paperwork to the Travis County treasurer, who then mailed me a new car title to establish ownership of the vehicle by me as a Texas resident.
I got the new title in the mail the other day. It identifies me as the sole owner. The Iowa title named "Brian or Wendy Boka" as the owner. The Texas title lists the previous owner as simply, "Out of State -- Waukee, IA." I found that interesting -- just because the prior owner lived in another state, his or her name would not be included on the title. To the state of Texas, prior owners in other states do not exist, even if it is the same person who owns the car now.
In a way, it was strange to see that, because sometimes I feel like my entire past doesn't exist. I suppose it doesn't. It did once, but it does no longer. Brian does not exist now, the life we shared no longer exists, my career as an attorney no longer exists. Our home no longer exists -- yes, the structure that was our house is still standing, but it is no longer our home; in fact, it is someone else's home now. Looking at that title document, I was struck by how quickly one's entire life -- what one has built up to for literally decades -- can cease to be.
This weekend, appreciate the life you have, for you never know when it will all fall apart, when it will all cease to exist, and when you will suddenly find yourself 1,000 miles and a lifetime away from everything you once knew, getting another cold, hard reminder in the mail of what is no longer.