That Fateful Morning
On July 5th, 2023, at approximately 9:30 in the morning, I dutifully hopped (HAH) up into my seat in Levi (our very large Nissan Armada lovingly nicknamed Leviathan) like I was going to the supermarket. Except I wasn’t. At the age of 70 years, 8 months and 9 days I was leaving everything I’d known for decades to start a new life. I was nervous. That’s a fib. I was downright petrified. I managed to hide it from the others in the car, did some industrial strength edibles (legal where we came from and where we were headed) and sat back for the longest ride I’ve taken in eons.
The ride should have taken 5ish hours according to Google’s wisdom. Google apparently doesn’t consider bumper-to-bumper traffic and dizzying mountain roads. It took 9 hours. . . in a car with three adults, one hyper, autistic 5-year-old, an almost hundred-pound dog, and as much crap as we could cram in every nook and crannie. Not something I want to repeat any time soon.
But at approximately 6:30 pm, we pulled up in front of the house we rented sight unseen from a distance of five states away. It looked just like the pics. And just to show what a great neighbor I was going to be, I fell going UP the front steps and passed out not once but twice, proving to the neighbors that I was capable of providing quality entertainment. A UPS guy going down the street, jammed on his brakes, left his truck in the middle of the street and ran over to help. Neighbors came running. My daughter panicked and called the paramedics. They were super nice. After making sure I was just a clumsy old lady and not brain damaged (debatable), they wished us well and left.
That Night and Morning
I didn’t sleep much that first night. We were on a very nice inflatable mattress. . . that leaked. Every hour or two one of us had to turn the handle to pump it up. I don’t think I would have slept well in any case. I kept rehashing the past year or two in my mind, the hunt for finding a new place to live before we were out on the street where we were due to the high prices of everything. I knew we didn’t have much time left. The money was running out. Then this house appeared in one of our desired locations. Then it was gone. They told us it was rented. Then I saw it again. Called and was told their renter backed out at the last second. Got everything moving and. . . we had a new place to live within a VERY short time. Everything went so fast my head spun. We e-signed the lease on June 17th and on July 5th here we were.
Waking up that first morning was strange. I didn’t know where I was for a split second and then it was like, “Oh yeah.” The first thing I noticed was that the air smelled really good. I heard the neighbor on one side leave for work. Good morning things. We only had with us what we could cram into Levi but you can bet the coffee pot was in there. Ahhhhh yesssss. . . .
Keep Going
A day or two later, my husband made the long trek back to pick up what I thought was a very large U-Haul trailer that we had packed before that fateful morning. Except it didn’t fit. . . not all of it. He ended up making four trips back. Every trip back costs me approximately $200 in gas plus the cost of whatever trailer we had on the car. We were trying to save money by NOT using a moving company. It ended up costing more, not to mention the wear and tear on certain old folks. NOTE TO SELF: Just hire the damn movers next time. Plus, moving is not a good sport for a 73-year-old man, not in good shape, who shouldered most of the moving burden. We were blessed with good friends who drove four hours to help us unload two of the trailers. Grateful.
Now
Today is a year since that fateful day. This place is an actual city, but a VERY friendly one. We were used to the back woods. Lots and lots of resources here. We’ve established ourselves gradually here. The people are phenomenal. They are friendly beyond belief, NOT something I was used to. So. . . is it home yet? Not really, but it’s getting there.
Starting over at 70. It CAN be done. You might do it kicking and screaming, like I did. If you need to go, though, step out. It’ll be okay.
I’ve been knitting since I was five years old. My Grandpop taught me one rainy afternoon with 4 pencils and a ball of string. Yeah, I was going in circles even back then. LOL I found a book in the Five & Dime and taught myself to crochet two years later. I don’t think Grandpop knew what he created. I spent every waking moment as a child either knitting or crocheting something. All my money went to buy yarn. In high school, I was crocheting bikinis for all the skinny girls out of crochet cotton. Lining them, too! I knit enough socks to outfit an Army.
Are you getting up there in age? Do you feel like you’re spinning the wheel on your favorite game show every time you have to pick your birth year from one of those dropdown menus? Yeah, mine is way down there, too. But before I start ranting, let me say that aging sure beats the alternative. So many were not permitted to get old and that’s sad. I’m really not complaining. BUT when your younger self was so diametrically opposed to what you are becoming today, well. . . sometimes it just pisses me off. Here are three of my top contenders in the “Things That Suck About Getting Older” category.
It’s been said that everything old is new again. Boy, they’re not kidding!!! I just got an ad from Nordstrom. . . . yes, Nordstrom. NOT some fly-by-night retailer for the latest trend. Actually, I’ve seen these shoes all over the place. For those of us of an age, so to speak, remember these bad boys? And for anyone who doesn’t know shoe brands, Sam Edelman is a luxury brand. I just went and looked. . . . those black puppies on the left are $150!!!!
By now, you’ve all heard the story of how Cheslie Kryst, the 2019 winner of the Miss USA Pageant, took her own life. She left a note leaving everything to her mother. She wrote a post saying, “May this day bring you rest and peace.” And then she jumped from the balcony of a Midtown Manhattan high-rise.