Salina, Mom, moving, emotions, and moving on…

I rolled into town yesterday and took the familiar route toward 858 S. 11th, my boyhood home and still the residence of my Mom – at least for one more day. You see, yesterday, KA, Mary, Ron, Jamie, Evan, Bird, and I moved Marie’s few possessions up Crawford street to her new home at the Presbyterian Manor. As I carried the first box up to her 5th floor apartment, Mom told me how happy she was to be moving into her new home. She could sense I was a bit melancholy and as always was trying to cheer me up with little concern for her own feelings whatever they were. Her apartment is two bedroom and looks out to the southwest over the Salina Municipal golf course where Dad used to play golf so many years ago. Her sunsets will be stunning as from her perch high above little ole Salina, she’ll have a nearly birds eye view of the glorious sun setting over a spectacular Kansas blue sky. A simple pleasure for sure. 

Mom will still have her car, her volunteer work at Church, her work with those that can’t make it out of their homes, and now she’ll have more of her friends around her. The Jennisons, her lifelong friends, are now literally next door. The music director from her Church, Bev Olson, is just one floor above her. She’s already been invited to join the “cool table” for lunch and can’t wait for all the community, she told me. Nineteen years of living alone, she finally concluded, had been enough. “It’s time, Chester, for me to make this move,” she concluded with authority. Mom was making her emphatic exclamation. This convo was concluding. She was settled. I smiled as I admired her ability to make such difficult decisions and life changes with real decidres. This morning, as I wait for her in the lobby, I’m feeling pretty good about this too. I still can’t believe my Mom has moved after 61 years at 858 S. 11th. I cannot believe my little bedroom next to hers will now be off limits and that little bathroom down the hall will never be home to my toothbrush. I can’t believe the ping pong table, bumper pool, and TV area in the basement won’t congregate with cousins, neices, nephews, and family friends upon my infrequent returns. I feel a deep sense of loss and Mom seems somehow immune. 

Today, I’ll depart my old hometown and head for KC. I’ll be reunited with my Miss & Krits and her little Pennygirl pooch. We’ll make some new memories together and I’ll make them feel my pain and loss as if I’ve been cut to the bone. My Mom, she’ll just carry on. You see, part of my worldview/belief system is my desire to “feel life.” On day’s like yesterday this allows me to feel overwhelmed with a sense of letting loss in. I am glad I am wired and have chosen to increase my wiring toward this end. I feel alive even when I’m unhappy feeling so. I bounce back quickly as the good emotions seem to come more quickly into my system when I remain open to both extremes. Good. And, my Mom, she’s figured out her way too. It is good. 

My next trip here in May to celebrate Mom’s 90th trip around the sun will be a joy filled occasion. I’m kinda looking forward to seeing her with her new friends at the Manor and hanging out maybe even a little. I’ve got some real, hard, work ahead, however. Mom doesn’t much believe in hanging out…