The most notable observation was how much everything had changed. It started with my parents’ house, which my friend hadn’t set foot in for at least five to six years. “Wow, this all looks different!” he said.
The country house style kitchen had given way to a modern, black-and-white design with a big island in the center. The back wall separating it from the dining room was gone entirely, creating a much larger, unified open space. “Ah, this is also new,” Jens remarked about our fireplace which had indeed been replaced. New TV, new couch, new living room layout. And that’s only a small part of the renovations inside.
It’s not like my parents went on a massive shopping spree at the DIY store. All of these upgrades were done slowly, one at a time, over several years.
As we reminisced about our college days, we noticed our everyday lives had changed a lot, too. Both engaged about to marry. Jens is building a house. Twelve years ago, I was sleeping on the floor in his tiny, 20 square-meter apartment over the summer. I had just returned from studying abroad in the US and needed to pass my exams with no flat to live in. Jens would always sleep in. I’d wake up early, go swimming, and pick up stuff from the bakery before studying.
In the years since graduation, he’s been working for a big steel manufacturer, slowly rising through the ranks. I started my own business and ran that for a decade before taking on my first full-time role. Now, we’re thinking about houses, apartments, weddings, and kids. Our Pokémon cards are retirement plans more so than toys. And yet, the current of time never stops.
After recapping much of what had happened, Jens just said there, smiling. And then, in his typical, nonchalant tone, he said: “It always goes on.” Actually, I think that was the most notable observation.
