Hi there! I’ve been thinking about whether I should stay in my home or look at something more.… I don’t know. What’s the word I’m looking for? Oh yeah, “responsible.” It’s hard. I’ve lived in my cottage among the tall trees for nearly 25 years. And I love it. But getting around is a “bit” of a problem. Okay, what’s another word for “pain in the be-hind.” (That’s how I say be-hind, and I’m sticking to it!)
I see the bone doctor Wednesday, aka orthopedic surgeon. But I like bone doctor much better. I don’t want to go, and I’ve managed to delay the “visit” a whopping two weeks. But alas, the day looms large. Hey! Maybe I’ll be able to walk like I did when I was 20 before then. Probably not. Still, hope lingers illusively.
You see, I grew up on my grandparent’s farm in eastern Kansas. We had hundreds of trees. A remarkable hackberry grew to a width of 13 feet! Much like me.
And when I moved into my cottage, I suddenly realized how important the trees, the silence, and the groundedness were to me. I don’t want to leave that. But I might.
I didn’t realize I had a plan to either die in my home or at worst go to the hospital or hospice for a couple of weeks and cash out. But I did. Going into assisted living sounds like as much fun as stepping on a couple of three-inch rusty nails.
And I notice that I am grieving the loss of my home. When we lose something or someone, it rocks our brains. And until our wonderful little neurons make new pathways to a new reality, we grieve. Who knew?
Be safe and be well, COVID is still out there.
You & Yours!
Gloria
Gloria Christie is a political journalist for the liberal online newspaper The Bipartisan Report. Find her here on Facebook. Or at Three White Lions, her book written in her own unique style with a twist of humor on Amazon Kindle Vella and the Gloria Christie Three White Lions podcast on Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, etc. Christie’s Mueller Report Adventures In Bite-Sizes a real-life compelling spy mystery (in progress).
I hope the bone surgeon helps! About assisted living: I moved my father-in-law to an assisted living facility some years ago. Up until that point, you couldn't imagine someone less likely to take kindly to such a place. But he seemed to enjoy it from the start, making the most of the amenities and the food service, chatting with everyone when he felt like it and keeping to himself when he didn't. He seemed to be happy there until he passed away about a year later. I guess you never know. All best wishes!