Moving out of our family home: Part 1

I do well when I’m charged with a project that has a natural endpoint, a collection of discrete tasks to check off my list. When the list is done, the project is complete. I find this very gratifying. Perhaps this makes me a simple person. I’m not bothered by the nuances of what’s ahead of me. As long as I can articulate the steps and get at it, I’m content, even if the project is not a pleasant one.

I am a strong woman. I have fought for my place in high tech, a field that is often unkind to women. Deciding to move Robert to Daylight Memory Care was gut-wrenching. Preparing to move him was disheartening, but with a list, I could turn it into a project. I could do this.

I stood in the doorway to his office, the front bedroom. The room is small with a large window overlooking the street. I flipped on the light switch and then thought better of the artificial light, flipped it off again, and opened the blinds to see a pack of high school kids racing to beat the morning bell.

Letting go

Fully illuminated, I studied the flotsam of this room, so well lived in by Jackson when he was small and then by Robert after Maddie moved out of the house and Jackson moved to her bigger bedroom.

This space had been through so many iterations. Jackson’s changing table and crib were long…