Alone Again

by Betty

Twas a bright sunny morning when a green cab flew down the street, stopped in the driveway, loaded two bags into the trunk, shut the doors, ready to fly off.

The dogs stood nearby, tails wagging non-stop, enjoyed a couple pats on the head, a couple dog treats, and off she went, into the green cab, flying a block down the street and out of sight.

We wandered back inside the house – much too empty, much too quiet, much too lonely. The dogs sat at her door, curious that she didn’t come out, scratched on her door and got no response. Lay down to wait, surely she’d come out to play. Not to be.

No more specialty treats from Trader Joe’s. No more Christmas cookies or homemade cinnamon rolls. No more Christmas carols on the phonograph. No more Christmas décor. Gone was grandma’s gold tree, gone was Dad’s high-tech tree, gone was the special tree with its collector ornaments, gone was the Snoopy tree. Gone were the three white trees outside. Gone was Santa standing by.

All the ornaments packed in boxes, stacked on shelves in the Christmas closet.

Gone the sparkling kitchen, the vacuumed carpet, the shining windows.

Decision time has come.

Where does one find assisted living quarters with a large private, walled back yard where two dogs can roam? How does one find assisted living neighbors who do not complain about barking dogs when every dog lover knows barking is what dogs do?

How does one adapt to people living so close by?

How does one know the money to pay for assisted living won’t run out in ten or fifteen years?

Why not stay in one’s home that’s too big, to quiet, too lonely? Why not rent out a room, hire a housekeeper, employ a landscaper, sign up for a driver?

Decisions. Why are they so hard?

March, 2012

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