God’s love is made visible through the helping hands of his faithful children. One of the helpers was a woman who has just recently survived a rigorous set of chemotherapy treatments that left her drained for the better part of each week. And yet, here she was helping wrap and pack!! I am just amazed and so very, very grateful. These are real friends.
Suppose I should be feeling a sense of nostalgic loss as we move from this house which has been our home for twenty eight years. It hurt deeply to leave the little ranch on Red Fox. It was our first house and we bought it new. Our two children grew to nearly teen years there. Much that was sweet and memorable happened there. The house we live in now belonged to someone else so it wasn’t new. Think Lib enjoyed transforming it into a beautiful home...I was just busy trying to survive economically and professionally..the problem for many middle aged men. Soon the girls were out, gone to college then careers and families of their own. Lib and I lived parallel lives for a number of years, each doing their own thing but not sharing much except memories, just too busy. It wasn’t until I retired that we began the journey toward each other again. So, even though I leave our community with sadness, I have scant attachment for the house the way I had for our first.
I can’t get highly enthused about "new" as much as she. That is the wonderful thing about the female psyche...it has the capacity to stay young, to be hopeful, to look with anticipation about yet another house that will be transformed into "home". There is a gleam in her eye, a vibrancy in her voice that betrays the belief that we are moving toward "greener" pastures...where one may reinvent one’s self. I will do my best to position my attitude to be helpful and encouraging, but if you’re a seventy year old male or older you will probably have some understanding of where I am. My apologies to any dear friends who read this, especially those of the female persuasion who may wonder what the heck is the matter with me.
"Comfort" is high on an old man’s priorities. There are aspects of the move that I find attractive and interesting. But, the initial change has the quality of a tooth being pulled. Think all the packing and shutting down activities has gotten to me. Looking forward to being in a more pleasant disposition later on when we finally get into our new Richmond abode and we’re not living like nomads. As I said comfort is high on the list and it ain’t comfortable rhaht now. Cheers!!
My heartfelt thanks to all who have graced our lives here with their thoughtfulness. I will miss your dear presence in our lives deeply. I comfort myself with the thought that Richmond isn't the other side of the world and that it will be possible for me to see and visit with you the same wonderful way I visit occasionally with my Woodstock School class mates. ( I thought I had lost them forever, too! Not!!!) So...let's not say good-byes, but rather we'll see you soon again!