House, Condo, Assisted Living

Last weekend we went out with old friends for an unremarkable, actually pretty bad, Irish breakfast at a Northeast restaurant.  Our friends are beginning the process of getting ready to sell their beautiful home on Lake Minnetonka where they have lived for many years.   I could see and feel the stress they were experiencing, having been in their place a few years back when we sold the Linden Hills house.  Harry had had enough of my procrastination and told me one weekend that I must not be serious about selling the house I had lived in for a quarter of a century.  I  was tired of his whining and I knew he was right, it was time to move on.  I picked up the Saturday paper, found an advertisement for some new condos being built in St. Louis Park, and off we went.  As it turned out, we bought one of these condos a week later.

What Harry didn't know is that I had silently been grieving the loss of my house for several months.  A house has great sentimental value.  I recall often sitting alone on my beloved front porch the spring before we moved, crying as all the memories came rushing back.  I still find myself driving by the old place every once in a while and trying unsuccessfully to get Harry to swing by there if he is the driver.  The young couple who bought it have three daughters and have remodeled the house substantially over the past five years.  I love to watch what they do to it.  Recently they put on a new front porch and stone  front steps.  The year they moved in they did a major renovation, bumping out the back of the house to enlarge the kitchen, the upstairs bathroom and two bedrooms.  They have also put up a beautiful fence and added gardens which encircle the house.

The process of moving out of a long-lived-in house is daunting.  For us the planning and organization went on for months.  Without the help of our friends and family we never would have made it out.  The attic, basement and garage were the most frightening.  The new condo was only 1400 square feet: no basement, no attic, and our garage consists of a place for the cars and a cage where one can store a few items like golf clubs and Christmas decorations.  We had three garage sales, managed by the creative Jack and Terra, and Harry spent his days packing and packing and packing.  Our niece, Andrea, brought her soccer team and our friends Pat and Bill came to move us out and into our new home.  That night, from our third-floor perch which as yet had no window shades, we watched 4th of July fireworks exploding from Edina, Hopkins, St Louis Park, and Minneapolis. I felt it a good omen.

There is much I miss about the house: the porch which some years you could enjoy from April through October; the gardens; and the old coal-burning fireplace which required wood chopped up small.  I brought my daughter home to the old Edwardian house and she grew up with her friends Katie and Beth who became her surrogate sisters, living right next door.  There were many fun family gatherings over the years.  Harry and I were married in the house in 2004 when it turned 100 years old.  People often ask if I miss the house and I say no.  My life now is much more simple and free.  We can leave anytime and not worry about shoveling the snow or mowing the grass.  I now garden in pots and can switch on the gas fireplace without having to go out to the porch to get that short, stubby wood.  I make frequent trips to Goodwill as I try to avoid clutter.

Another friend called me from Florida yesterday with the tale of her parents having to move from assisted living to a memory-care facility.  Her father continues to fall and cannot remember to take all his prescribed pills.  They will now have to live in two rooms.  Another friend's mother recently had  the same experience.  The truth is that none of us know what the future has in store for us.  I just hope that if and when I move into the Ebenezer assisted-living and memory-care home currently being built across the street from us, there will be fireworks to ease the transition.



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