A moving Target

Ain’t it amazing?

Good morning. I have been out of contact as we await the preparation of our apartment (that will be moved into Dec. 17th). Irrelevant note: Somewhere close to Beethoven’s birthday (only relevant due to the numerous time he was forced to move for angering the residents around him. I will, therefore, forego pouring pans of water over my head. Somehow, close neighbors don’t tolerate that sort of thing. In addition, I’m giving up my piano — haven’t played it very much (I’m keeping my music, there is a piano here).

It has been a milestone moving into Assisted Living: goodbye garden, goodbye non-essentials — hello, medication monitoring (saves confusion) and dinner provided. I have been spending the last two weeks in preparation for the grand unraveling. Yesterday, we gathered boxes and emptied drawers into them. This will prepare some of the furniture to transition to the new apartment. The rest will wait for an estate sale at the old address sometime next Spring. And as an unexpected bonus, we get to review life from 96 years old (him) and 80 years old (me).

I have to refer to “Street Car Named Desire” for comparisons. Somehow, I see myself as the character Blanche: “I’ve always relied on the kindness of strangers”. And they have appeared from everywhere. There are relatives, friends, and total strangers who have appeared as if by magic, and I owe all of them my deepest thanks. However, given the broader perspective of my country, I fear I might have turned into “Marie Antionette” in an era where people have no home To. Go. To.

My only defense is to help where I can, and do what I can to demonstrate humanity instead of Hubris. Thank you to all of the “Angels” who have manifested for me. I will give back as I am able. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Blessings on your collective heads!