Getting Ready to Move My Dad

Don’t worry, I’m still here.  The last five days have been a time of writer’s block; I was available, but couldn’t think of anything worth writing.  Now at least I can catch readers up on family events.

After forty-years in Florida, my father has finally decided to move out.  For the past two or three years the whole family felt he should spend the rest of his days with Leive and I, but he stood firm in Florida, not willing to leave his house until it was clear even to him that he could no longer maintain it.  Now it looks like the planned sale will be complete next month, so I booked a ticket for Leive to fly down and get him, and my brother booked a ticket for him to come with Leive on the return trip, a two-hour non-stop flight from Sanford, FL to Lexington, KY.

We have room for my father in our house, but because he would have an awful time using our stairs, he would be largely confined to one floor if we put him there.  Take your pick:  he would have to stay upstairs with Leive, in the basement with me, or on the main floor with our parrot.  Therefore we are now planning to move him into an assisted living facility that is just two miles from our house.  We went to visit it when I was home last December, and it is nicer than most of the places like that I have seen.  Almost as good as Winter Park Towers, the place near our Florida house where my grandmother stayed for the last nineteen years of her life.  At least it is close enough for us to visit him every day, and to take him places on special occasions.

Meanwhile here in Connecticut, winter continues.  It is just as cold as ever, maybe colder than it was in January.  I noticed that the grass outside if finally turning brown, anyway.  And we’re still almost snowless, compared with other winters.  We got snow yesterday morning, and a little bit more this afternoon, but it didn’t last.  In both cases it melted after it touched the ground, so I didn’t have to do any shoveling this time.

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