"...A million dead-end streets. And every time I thought I'd got it made, it seemed the taste was not so sweet ...I watch the ripples change their size, but never leave the stream of warm impermanence" -Bowie
"If the businessmen drink my blood, like the kids in art school said they would,
then I guess I'll just begin again" -Arcade Fire
If you're anything like me, you have a taste for adventure, but mostly you want things to stay the same, but with small, trivial changes.
Not by my, or our family's choice, things in our lives together are changing. I don't mean that to sound mysterious. My father-in-law died. Simple, blunt, shocking, and abrupt as that. He checked into the hospital on his own two feet, and the next day, he was dead. Details aren't enlightening or important. If I may indulge in just a moment of navel gazing, though, I've spent the last few years worried about frontal attack (Kathy's BC) and from nowhere, my father in law is gone. I've built a thick brick wall, and someone left the back door open.
Now the wonderful work he did of taking care of Mary, my mother in law, who is quite dear to me, falls to Kathy and her siblings, and we have agreed to move in with Mary so that she can stay in her home. There's some positives and some negatives, but both are immaterial it is so obviously the correct thing to do.
Nevertheless, change is afoot. Change for Lucy, who's only gone to one school, ever, and had her closest friend in nearly every class with her. Changes for Kathy who will likely do more taking care of her mother than I will. Not such dramatic changes for me, just a different (and let's be frank, NICER) home to return to after work. Closer, more accessible bike trails. The highway's nearer. All major positives as far as I'm concerned.
But (cue Garth in Wayne's World) I fear change. I don't like to adapt. And Lucy hates transitions. So there's that.
More to come. I mean, moron this later.