Changing planets

Several years ago we found ourselves in possession of an invitation to interplanetary travel. The prospect both excited and frightened us. We lacked the training such a venture would require. We didn’t feel ready to actually change planets and begin colonizing in a new reality. What to do?

In other words, we had come face to face with the decision to move into a retirement community. At the time it seemed like a capitulation, like we would be giving up our independence and admitting that we were old. Grim thought.

We faced a decision almost everyone comes up to if they live beyond 60 years: How and where to spend the rest of our lives? There are only so many options. Some prefer to stay in their ancestral home, perhaps a farmhouse, and be the hub of extended family activities. Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go and so on. This is an American ideal, a Thomas Kincaid calendar painting. It seems that not many actually get to enjoy this ideal.

Others downsize and live in a smaller dwelling, valuing their independence for as long as possible. A move to a Home may be a future consideration, thinking of the need for assisted living. But it’s not a pleasant prospect. And there’s always hospice care at the end of the line.

Some decide to live with their kids or grandkids. This has its advantages and disadvantages, for each of the generations living together.

And many older people, at some point, make the leap to a planned senior living situation. These vary in what they offer and in what they cost, from nursing homes to independent living set-ups with no medical help, to continuing care retirement communities. Whatever the choice, the decision is complex and emotionally charged.

Hal and I had been on the waiting list for a faith-based continuing care retirement community for years, thinking that sometime in our mid-70s or early 80s we’d make the move. When we received notice that we were at the top of the list, it surprised us. We were still too young, or so we thought. Hal had just turned 73 and I was a very young 72. It wasn’t time. Or was it?

Economic circumstances and a change in our working life (retirement), plus the fact that some of our peers had moved in and claimed to love it, all enticed us. The Community was willing to hold the apartment we were interested in for a month. We would then have two months to downsize our stuff, make repairs to our condo, sell it, and make the move. Too fast, plus too young, made the decision hard, to say the least.

We asked our kids their advice and they were both positive. We prayed a lot, of course. And we finally agreed to change planets. To enter a new phase of life. Having no clear word from the Lord, it seemed a logical move to make. But up to the last packing box, we weren’t absolutely sure this was the right thing to do. Interplanetary flight is scary.

(To be continued)