Moving and Moving On

Hi, readers.  Have you avoided snow and ice storms?  How about Tornados?  Northern Colorado has had some pretty hefty snows, but we're prepared.  Unlike Texas.  Seems their overhauled power grid is holding up.  I think our seasons are going to be whacky from here on out, don't you?  When is the populace going to move away from the coastlines?  There's plenty of room in our midsection.  Come one, come all!

My sisters have been moving everything out of my parents apartment at their retirement community.  Having lived there for awhile myself, with my 15 years older husband, I wonder if I'll ever go back there again?  I made a few friends there and still keep in touch.  My sisters said that whenever they were in the public hallways they were besieged with residents who gave their condolences and then wanted the latest report on me.  My mother was practically non-verbal and in a wheelchair when they moved there, so it was difficult to get to know her. But people got to know Dad pretty well and they are shocked he is gone.  BettyLou would see him head out every morning for his walk; people chatted with him in the mail room; he worked with a writing group once a week, and he had prearranged lunches with different groups of friends after Mother died.

I was feeling somewhat guilty and/or helpless because I didn't want to fly to California because of Covid.  In the end, I managed to find things to do from afar to help move things along, such as contact the cemetery and start the process of ordering a headstone for them.  I've also been drafting their obituaries.  Nothing takes it out of me as much as a physical move.  I helped my parents downsize when they moved from San Diego to Sacramento 11 years ago.  40 years of accumulation.  Two freezers packed with food that was all dated, and much of it dated back years.  Spices that were over a decade old.  Supplies of washed ziplock storage bags and glass mason jars.  I didn't even consult.  It all went into the trash.  We were, after all, moving a 4 bedroom home with formal dining room and breakfast room, not to mention a den, into a 2 bedroom townhouse.  

My son in law just asked if I'd be using some of my inheritance to buy a bigger place.  "Nooooo!"  I don't want a bigger place.  I like it small.  I never want to move again.  I've done it too many time.  I've never lived in any house for longer than 5.5 years.  They'll have to carry me out of this one.  I have friends who have been in houses for 30 and 40 years.  That seems remarkable to me.  I have a friend in Boston who has been in the same apartment for 44 years.  And it aint big.  He's happy there, and that's what counts.  And that's why I like my place so much:  I'm happy here.  I have trustworthy and helpful neighbors who will join me for walks, they'll dog sit for me (and I for them).   The traffic noise is falling more into the background, and the BNSF rail line doesn't wake me up at night any more.  And those two conditions are why my house was affordable.

Mom and Dad have moved on, and we will have a graveside service in Monterey California sometime this spring.  Just for the family. Something simple in a beautiful city that we all love.  I'm going to book my room at the hotel where my parents had their honeymoon.  Full circle, baby, full circle.