Friends Or Family

Last week I went to visit my daughters, their husbands and my grandkids.  Getting there was such a schlep – two hour drive at 5:45 AM, parking in a ‘cheap’ lot at the airport, waiting there for an hour, flying for an hour, and then waiting to be picked up and driving the 20 minutes back to Bend, Oregon, where they all live.  They have been pushing us to move, and when Wonono, my partner, completes his internship as an addiction counselor next year (after finishing a two-year course to get the proper certificate, no mean feat at his age), we probably will.  Our decision will depend on the cost of houses here and there, both for selling and buying purposes.  Bend prices will rise faster than prices on the Olympic Peninsula. Here I look out at Puget Sound and Mt. Baker, a feat I accomplished after a year and a half search; there, I will be lucky to overlook bushes blocking our view of the house next door.  As a writer, I have felt the need to be surrounded by beauty, and still do.  Can I give that up?  Here I already have several good friends, one very close; there, I will have to start over.  At 72, that seems a daunting task to me.  Sure, I’ll join a peace movement in Bend, or a like organization, and continue in Al-Anon, where I’ll probably also find friends.  But becoming close takes time and energy, and feels overwhelming when I think about it, to say nothing about packing and moving.  There I’ll have the company and help of my two daughters, a big plus.  Instead of visiting for days, and being on their schedules, I can drop in and out, and be on my own time clock.    I would be able to go home without a full day of travel, which  in truth, is a big deal.  It will be much easier for Wonono to visit his kids in Oakland (twenty minutes to the airpot, as opposed to the hours it takes from our quiet little seaport town), another big plus as we age.  I don’t know how to weigh the pro’s and con’s, although my son-in-law was very helpful.  He reminded me that the issue is my happiness, not what either of my daughters wants.  His mom moved close to them when his dad passed away; she didn’t feel the need earlier, and what kind of residence she wanted obviously altered after his death as well.  If I wait, and become ill, then what? That is the major concern of my kids, which I do understand.  But I don’t think we can move because either of us might become ill.  The father of my other son-in-law passed away recently.  He lived far away, and his son could only visit twice, my daughter told me tearfully.  I know if that were to occur for us, both girls, especially the one with two kids, would have a very hard time both getting here, and staying for awhile.  Sigh.  I guess it’s fortunate I have a year to contemplate  and then make the best decision I can.  And remember that the person I most have to please is myself.  For my generation, that aint easy.  Ahhh, training.  It persists, even when we know it’s bogus.