When It's Time to Change

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At the age of 97, she sat by her window watching the moving men place, onto one truck, the few pieces of life she was able to take with her. The cleaning company filled the second, much larger one with possessions she had to discard. “Fifty years in this house, and all the things I accumulated,” she said to the workers. “Are you sure no one can use an electric can opener?” The moving-van driver, with tears in his eyes, said, “I can use it.”

Every neighbor who came to kiss her goodbye left with armfuls of canned goods, knives, dishes and as many things as she could find homes for. She smiled, feeling happy that some of her possessions would be going with someone she knew.

She was a wonderful friend of my mother, and I’d been happy when I saw her phone number appear on my caller I.D. After the standard greetings, the woman who’d given me so much advice in the past told me that she’d sold her home and would be moving into an assisted living community. She asked me to come on her moving day and spend the last few moments in her house with her.

Her body was wearing down, and she could no longer handle the stairs in her three-story house. But her voice was still strong, and her mind was sharper than that of many younger people. She lived in that house as a widow for 40 years, but she didn’t feel sorry for herself. She used her time putting together care packages to send to our troops as well as crocheting booties and blankets for unwed mothers. She enjoyed trips to Manhattan, taking yoga class, painting portraits and reading. She was always learning something new. Her dream was to go to college, and she earned her degree at the age of 75.

I held her hand and asked how she was holding up. “Lately, all people want to do is talk about their aches and pains,” she answered. “I don’t want to cry about things over and done.”

I said that this move would be wonderful, because she’d be in a community sharing activities with so many people her age. She stopped me. “Don’t worry about age as you go on with life. I never let a number be the deciding factor in any decisions. It still isn’t. I’m moving because I don’t want to depend on this silly chain.”

She pointed to the emergency alert chain around her neck. “Goodness, the other day I hugged my granddaughter and I heard the guy asking if I was OK!” We had a good laugh. Then she looked me in the eye and said, “Know when it’s time to change something, and accept it.”

The trucks were filling up, and it was time to take the chair she was sitting on. She agreed with her daughter-in-law the shame it was to discard a pint of blueberries and accepted them, placing fistfuls into her mouth. She wasn’t concerned that it was getting late and that traffic on this Friday afternoon might be slow. She sat on the bottom step of the staircase, appreciating her last snack and her last moments in her home.

As the trucks pulled away, she asked me to go upstairs to make sure all the windows were closed. I asked her if she’d like to join me for one more walkthrough, and she said no.

Her family had the car waiting in the driveway. “Just shut the door behind you,” she said. “It locks automatically.” She waved, saying, “Goodbye, old house, and on to my recent chapter.” She likes the word “recent” instead of “new.”

Holding back tears, I gave her a good-bye hug and kiss and helped her into the car. As I was closing the door I heard her say to her family, “I sure hope the case with my address book, notecards and stamps made it onto the correct truck.”

Yesterday, I am happy to say, I received my first note from her in her new – or as she would say, recent -home. It was written in perfect penmanship. “You came at a critical time to help me for which I am grateful,” she said. “Together we made it happen. With true appreciation and warmest thanks to you. Let peace and harmony reign.”

I learned so much that morning about not fearing unknown places I may be headed in my own life. The experience reminded me not to get attached to things; at the end of the day, it is all just stuff. Take the important things and know when it is time to let everything else go. It’s important to remember that each day holds the lyrics of the songs of our life.

I look forward to seeing her “recent” telephone number on my caller ID There’s a saying that “the best tunes are definitely played on the oldest fiddles.” I know that fiddle has many memorable tunes to teach, and I am ready to continue memorizing every note.

Goodbye late, hello recent.

Read more of Donna Ryan’s work on her blog, 50plusstickingtogether.com.