There’s something special about spending retirement in your hometown.

You walk the warm, familiar sidewalks of your youth, chock-full of memories and the big events that happened there over the years.

You feel a sense of comfort in recognizing well-known buildings and storefronts.

But not everything is the same.

The businesses you remember from your past are no longer there.

Things are different.

Gone are the Palma Maria Restaurant, Texas Lunch, the S & A, Five Point Diner, Napoli Luncheonette, Chili Dog, Brooks’ Ice Cream Store, Moser’s News Agency and so on.

Those names dissolved into history.

Author Thomas Wolfe was right when he wrote those profound words “you can’t go home again.”

And it continues.

It’s been an unsettling year of transition at three of my favorite food places.

Two of the eateries were sold, not only changing hands but falling out of family ownership for the very first time.

It started several months ago when Heisler’s Cloverleaf Dairy was bought by new owners from the Lancaster area after being in the same family for 44 years.

In my youth, Heisler’s was the place to be. You’d meet your neighbors and friends there, along with characters to remember for the rest of your life.

There was a gifted musician who played an electric organ in the middle of the sprawling miniature golf course. Another gentleman, “The Whistler,” stood at the fence and whistled tunes with amazing talent. We figured he was whistling to the birds to see if they’d whistle back.

You could order a burger and fries and homemade ice cream. Or maybe oversized strawberry waffles inside Heisler’s Waffle Shop, an Alpine ski chalet with center fireplace.

Afterward, you’d work off the sugar by climbing inside steel cages suspended from a high iron bar. It looked like a swing set you’d find in medieval Europe. You’d use your body weight to force the cage to swing back and forth, higher and higher, until performing a dizzying full loop.

Heisler’s was always a memorable experience.

I’m not sure yet about the new place, christened online as Heisler’s Creamery. But I’m hoping for the best.

Another big change took place in July when iconic Beacon Diner was sold to a Reading restaurateur, falling out of family ownership after an amazing 85 years. It’s now called Hometown Diner Route 309.

The first difference inside was eliminating the cocktail bar and all alcoholic beverages. Truth be told, alcohol wasn’t what the diner was noted for anyway. But, as they say, a new broom sweeps clean and so we’re likely to see other changes to follow.

Finally, the biggest change, and hardest to deal with, took place in August.

M & I Deli locked their doors after a remarkable 30-year run.

A Tamaqua staple, they served comfort food with emphasis on yummy: Pennsylvania Dutch, Polish, Ukrainian, Italian, American, Greek.

If a tasty dish existed, they knew how to make it from scratch. Halupki (stuffed cabbage), bleenies (potato pancakes), chicken potpie, whatever.

Plus the best-ever Scalloped Potato Casserole.

Owners Mary and Irv operated this mom-and-pop place with love. But what’s really unique is they weren’t actually mom and pop.

They weren’t a husband-and-wife team, simply two friends who decided to open a deli and catering operation. They had the right chemistry to make it work, and those of us who enjoyed their fare knew it was something special.

So far, nothing new has opened at that location.

But 3 miles up the road, Jersey Mike’s is coming to town near Walmart, not far from McDonald’s, Turkey Hill and Taco Bell. They’ll open a sandwich shop any day now. And Wawa is coming there, too.

It’s hard not to notice the trend.

Family-owned places in town are vanishing, supplanted by larger chains moving into the suburbs where there’s free and ample parking.

Change is a constant. For better or worse. It’s happening everywhere, not just here.

When you live to be in your 70s, you learn to accept.

Yes, the warm, familiar sidewalks are still here. And so are those richly historic buildings.

Of course, many of the eateries are gone along with their friendly neighborhood smiles.

But there’s a new start, with new faces to meet and friendships to make. And that’s usually a good thing.

Still, Thomas Wolfe said it best. You can’t go home again because the home you knew isn’t there.