An Artist's View

I don't know if I hate change more than anyone else

we are all creatures of habit

creatures of security

but I can sure speak for myself when I say I dislike it.

change, that is.

I don't mind small changes, like rearranging the furniture and fashion trends. But lately, my life has been chock full of big change.... the kind that rocks my foundation. It seemed to start with moving the Texas, after being a California girl for 50 years. It was a fun adventure until our business went south, taking our life savings with it.

Then, we lost Tom,
then Wyatt,
and dad had a stroke

all in the space of a year.

And the latest: facing the fact that my parents must move from the home they built, lived in, loved, and raised 4 daughters. A 41 year stay, that spanned careers, birthday parties, wedding receptions and great-grandchildren has come to an end. Their longtime nest is too much for them to handle now. They, and we, their daughters, are very sad to face this reality. We have tried to find another way, but the march of time and inevitability has taken over. The wolf: growing elderly, is at their door.

I am going to Fresno in 2 weeks to help my parents move into an assisted living facility. It is beautiful and elegant and honors their dignity. But it means leaving their home. The hardest thing was hearing my mom cry on the phone when I asked her about it. She had to hand the receiver off to dad and I listened to him try to be brave as he reasoned that this move is what is best. His head knows it's true; his heart wasn't fully convinced. If there is one thing dad and mom always have made clear, it is that they want to die peacefully in the place they love best, their home. . . . and now that will not happen. My dad, who has always been strong and in charge, now sounds weaker and resigned.

I hate that.

I will photograph their home and all of its lovely rooms before we dissemble the best of it to move into their new place., To ease the transition, my sister Marsha and I will do our best to make their new apartment feel just like their old home. I am sad because this signals the end of an era and the beginning of their last days, or hopefully, years, on this earth.

I hate that.

Then I will photograph their new place . . . and I am sure it will look beautiful with all of their things in it. I'll keep a stiff upper lip and be strong for them and offer encouraging words that convince them, and myself, that this is a good thing. . . . because it really is the best thing for them now. I will focus on the positives: they are in beautiful, safe facility and we have peace of mind that they are getting the help they need with cooking, cleaning and being checked on often.

As daughters, we will keep looking forward, taking one day at a time, knowing more change is to come. This kind of change is hard and

I hate it.



******

The previous emotions were my initial reaction, written 5 days ago. As I re-read them today, it sounds a little dramatic, but that is how I was feeling at the time. Change is a process, and I am happy to report that we are all adjusting well, dare I say, even excited about the move. This new facility is really beautiful, I hear the food is fantastic, and every need is met.... every whim catered to. I would swear my parents are moving onto a luxury cruise ship, complete with a European chef and perky cruise director.

So . . .

everything is going to be okay

after all

and I am looking forward to visiting them on the SS Fairwinds.

their new place is called the Fairwinds,





isn't that funny? it even sounds like a cruise ship.