The Catholic church near my house is being repaired. It is the third time I witness the efforts to save a beautiful piece of architecture from the fifties.
The afternoon I discovered this, I felt a rush in my blood and took it as a sign of new things to come. In the days that followed, things got complicated. Then, I discovered that the rush was right. And at the same time that my life is changing, I wonder how many more times I will witness church makeovers.