Despicable realities . . .

I'm sure many of you can relate, but I can't speak for you. I can only speak for myself. Most of my realities have come over a short span of time. Sick of it. But the realities of which I write were inevitable. Maybe a tad out of order, or too soon, but inevitable. I'm thankful that I was blessed with the strength to withstand them. But it's wearing thin.

When I first came to Prescott I had my soul mate, a job that allowed me to meet many good people in short order, and my parents over the winter months. Life was good. But now? Living alone is not for the faint of heart. It brings with it a lot of inner turmoil and indecision. I've been able to overcome much of it, but as one gets older, too many "what if's" get in the way.

As time goes on, those inevitabilities (if that's a word) are rearing their ugly heads. The most recent one is my dad's decision to sell his little home here and stay in Iowa year around. I totally understand his reasoning, but I will never understand, at the age of 90, wanting to live where a hospital is 7 miles away, and the weather can be damned dastardly, not to mention he won't have the smorgasbord of healthcare that he has here. When Ben & I lived there, I recall a harrowing trip for Ben to that hospital, on ice covered highways at 4AM in the morning. I doubt an ambulance would have made the trip.

But the thought that burrows in the most is this: I will no longer have family here. That may not be unusual for some, but for me it is. My closest family is 8 hours away. Not an insurmountable distance, but it's not like you can get together just any old time. The rest of my family visited Prescott because my dad was here. Doubt that I'll see any of them again any time soon. Unlike many, I can't just hop on a plane. That's not a "boo hoo", it's that stinkin' reality. 

I may be closer to my dad than some of you are/were to yours, making it difficult for you to understand.  He may disagree, but I think we have personalities in common, plus our two major losses paralleled each other, making the bond even stronger.  To realize that I won't see him much, if at all, is punch-in-the-gut reality. 

But, I'll have him here for one more winter, so we'll make that proverbial hay while the sun shines.

A long, long time ago . . .