Friday, June 02, 2017

The Shift

I thought my life was busy before!

We are moving in 13 days. There is so much to be done, we have too much stuff that we only become aware we have when we are moving. We spend more time making lists than either of us are used to. We have pages and pages and pages of lists. This morning we got up really early so that Joe could drop me off on the way to work and make it up to meet the painters in plenty of time.

Yep, we have painters and we have movers. We are 64 year old men, both with disabilities, both who know exactly what we can and cannot do. Younger people can do what we can't, why not let them? So what's left is the packing, the organizing, the changing of everything. Addresses, cable and Internet, mail, driver's licenses - yikes.

Part of our task, is to slowly separate ourselves from living where we love to live. That was made a bit easier when I took a pretty serious fall in the bathroom. My shoulders and side still hurt a lot. It was instantly clear why we needed to uproot ourselves and get into an accessible space. But, then, even with that, we are having spasms of anxiety about life now and life after and how we will adapt.
It's normal I suppose.

I told Joe that one of the things that I think about is the fact that we have an accessible back porch/deck and there is a ramp down to the grass in the back yard. I picture that ramp. That ramp says something to me: "You are welcome here. We planned for you. We intended for you to be here."

Architecture can speak, did you know that?

It can forbid entrance.

It can welcome in.

It's time to feel welcome in our own home.

5 comments:

ABEhrhardt said...

Familiar is easier, but there's a reason you've been looking for accessible housing for a long time: you need to be safe in your own home, and a bathroom fall can have very serious consequences.

I can handle our short flights of 7 steps - just barely. But I know there was one night when only by God's grace I didn't fall down one set of them and possibly not survive the fall. I hang onto the railing now, and go down backward if necessary, but I can't just walk up and down 90% of the time.

We're doing the same - except haven't gotten serious enough to love a new place. I think that will help.

You will be happy.

There have always been handicapped people. The architecture tells you they weren't included or planned for.

Unknown said...

Feel for you both, moving is such a stresful time. But the deck sounds good! Wishing you adn Joe peace in your new home.

Unknown said...

Moving from one home to another one can mark the end of one chapter and the start of another (except for folks who move frequently, for military service or jobs). the tension between savoring what is about to end and anticipating what is coming next, and some ambivalence is part of the process....
sometimes i had to remind myself to just do the next task - even if it wasn't the most important one - to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the whole process....

take care....
clairesmum

Flemisa said...

Have moved many times as my ex-husband was military. Now I move because of family circumstances -- the last time under very stressful circumstances so never cleared out all I should have. Working on that a bit at a time.

It is never easy saying goodbye to the people and places and routines that have developed. The memories help but have to be put on the shelf.
It is a brand new adventure and opportunities and people to meet and places to explore.
Focus on each when appropriate, make your lists, and do what you can when you can.
Enjoy the challenges and stress and excitement of all you must do in the next few weeks and most certainly, I hope, enjoy the new house.

Belinda said...

I feel so badly that our home is one that "forbids entrance." You only realize the coat when friends you would dearly love to host, can't get in. Architecture speaks alright. :(

Moving is emotionally as well as physically exhausting. Acknowledging that is so good. Be gentle and take time and space from
other things to get through this if you can.