by Hilda Maston
Where is my blue vase? I haven’t seen it for weeks, and I want to pack it. Did I remember to call Goodwill to see what they accept? How much of my precious stuff will my daughter’s household be able to absorb?
I’ve got lots of questions, but not many answers. It’s called M.O.V.I.N.G.
After many trips with pickup trucks, and lots of muscle from family and friends, it’s all finally moved.
While clearing out my apartment, we found some things that I hadn’t seen in years. If I didn’t need them before, I won’t need them in the future. So out they went.
Fortunately, after a couple of weeks of chaos, calm descends once more. I find my blue vase and my favorite pair of socks. I learn how to navigate the new front stoop with my walker, and life goes on.
I like my new quarters. My books, my new TV, and my favorite pictures are all in one place. The cooking is great and the meals are regular, and I don’t have to worry about the laundry or shopping.
When Aiya and Laura are away from home, I have Scruffy and Jombi (the two dogs). They are good company and scare away strangers with their furious barking. Scruffy likes to watch TV with me in my chair. They both seem to know that I am unsteady on my feet and take care not to trip me.
I am on my way to settling into a routine. Routine is necessary when your memory gets faulty with the passage of years.
Maybe we need to move once in a while, when we are really old. It shakes us up and makes us learn new things.
|Scruffy guarding my inner sanctum|
I still haven’t managed to master all the functions of my iPad. My new TV has more channels than I have years, but my favorites are still there and I have plenty of time to watch all the new ones.
I have moved many times, but this time was different. I had a lot of help, and I made a lot of good decisions.
The feeling that, maybe, this is the last time I will have to move is comforting . . .