Moving Up
opening excerpt
“Gord, just go with Nadine, please! I’ll come later with the car.” How can he not even try to understand how much I need a last private walkthrough? I’ve explained, why can’t he give up? He seems to have no problem leaving this house we’ve shared for 46 years. Always the optimist, always looking forward. Seems easy for him, somehow excited about going to live in a brick and concrete box. I know he wants me to be happy but I want him to stop trying to convince me how much better the condo will be for both of us. I still don’t like it. I need to accept change the way I always have; let it worm its way into my mind and settle in slowly, even if not comfortably.
“But, Lise—”
“Dad, don’t worry.” Nadine touches his arm. “Mom will be fine.”
I hear Nadine’s words and see what I missed, that Gord is concerned, not that he doesn’t understand. I reassure him with a smile and a hug. Nadine helps him into the car and stashes his walker in the trunk. I wave them off and close the door so neighbours won’t be tempted to interrupt. Just me and the memories now.
The whole house is an obstacle course of labelled boxes and furniture. I start in the living and dining rooms and find them surprisingly easy to leave. The memories here aren’t of individuals but of shared space and events that blur in my mind. The basement is the same. It was mostly a kids’ retreat and later, a passive place to watch TV and do laundry. Laundry won’t change, taking stairs to do it will. I suppose that’s a bonus.
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