Things are what they are, but these same things can also carry meaning beyond their mere physical reality; this empty building once was several people’s home, but now seems to represent mortality itself as it sits empty under the unforgiving sun. I know my ancestors now, mostly, only as names, and like this house their stories seem to have died with them, without a lasting record I can read now to try to bring them back to life.

Maybe such as that is a toggling for you to write fictional histories of all these people.