Chapter 1
I’m old. It’s official. Not just because I turned sixty-eight on my last birthday, but also because I am packing up and moving to a Senior Living Apartment.
Just to be clear-No, I am not moving to a nursing home or even one of those assisted living places. I’m going to a “retirement community”. You frequently see ads for this kind of place. The people look about forty-five but with gray hair. The people are golfing, swimming, or generally just having a good time. The ad says something about how much you deserve this and it’s time to let other people do the work. The place isn’t as fancy as some but there is no maintenance, housekeeping is included and so are meals. Still, they only invite old people to live here and that would be me.
I’m just not sure how this happened. It seemed like just yesterday I was Judy Pengrin, young professional and now I’m Judy Pengrin, lady of a certain age. True, the laughing hazel eyes are still there but now they are framed in fans of creases. Thankfully, they mostly tilt up so it doesn’t look like I’m crabby all the time.
I still have masses of unruly dark chestnut hair, but the dark chestnut part has been purchased at the beauty supply shop for some time now. Gravity and Ben and Jerry’s have ravaged my once voluptuous curves. Everything has migrated a few inches south and puffed out a bit. Alas, rather than voluptuous at this point, I am just a little bit lumpy
Oh, I’m pretty healthy and probably could stay in this big house a few years longer. I’m just not sure why. I had been living with my thirty-something only daughter and we get along great. Jeanne is not just my only daughter but my only family who is not dead or I’d rather avoid. (By that, I mean my ex-husband.)
The house is full of lovely memories and it’s hard not to feel a sense of loss as I look out the large back window. It’s fall in Brady and the view is breathtaking. The weather has just a nip in the air and is otherwise mild. The trees and shrubs are ablaze in rich tones of red and gold. Bits of color float on the wind as the leaves shake off the trees. There is a bird refuge behind the house so there are great waves of birds flying this way and that on their journey to winter quarters.
Brady is either a small city or a large town depending on how you look at it. It sits at the base of the Rocky Mountain complex so that’s still about 4,000 feet elevation. The city climbs into the hills so that one end of town has pine trees and quaking aspens and the other almost qualifies as high desert. Everything has mountain in the name. Mountain View this and Mountain Shadow that-I like it.
I moved here with my then-husband many years ago from a desert community on the Mexican border. The desert has its charms, but I never saw the change of seasons until my mid-twenties and I was entranced. I don’t think you can appreciate how enchanting the first snowfall is unless you see it for the first time when you are fully grown. Brady is my home.
But, a three-bedroom house doesn’t have to be home. It’s a lot of trouble to maintain and I like the idea of being in a place where friends and activities come to you and you can still have your privacy. After all, it’s just stuff and you carry your memories wherever you go.
It’s not losing my memories that really bother me. Not making new ones is much worse. To be irrelevant is about the worst thing that can happen to a person. What you do should matter until you die. If I have anything to say about it, no one is ever going to pat me metaphorically on the head and say, “Isn’t she sweet.” If they do, they will find out just what a contradiction in terms, “sweet old lady” can be.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I am ecstatic that Jeanne found such a great guy. He’s a nice grounded, solid kind of guy. He works for a big accounting firm and is a great match for my daughter who is a second-grade teacher. He’s good to her and he’s good to me which is a great plus. I know he would have been happy to come help me with the house but they need their own life and I’d rather have my freedom. There’s only so much warranty left on this aging vehicle and I’d rather use it to have fun. And maybe I’ll do something useful in-between the fun.
I have divided three piles of boxes into keep, give to Jeanne and Brad and give to charity. Well, maybe there’ll be a box or two for storage. The pile to keep is by far the smallest pile. I’m going from a three-bedroom house to a one-bedroom apartment. I’ve never been the kind of person who holds on to everything, but it is surprising how much useless junk there is. I know the reason why there are three glue guns is I couldn’t find the first two but why are there three coffeemakers? It’s pretty dark in the basement. I think they’ve been fooling around.
I’m so glad I’m almost finished. They are definitely taking me out feet first from this new apartment because there is no way I’m moving again. I think I saved this last bookcase to give me time to decide what to do with my extensive penguin collection. Yes, that’s right-penguins.
Early on in my teaching career, Ms. Pengrin became Ms. Penguin. I sort of liked it so I just let it go to the point where now I will answer to either name. So, over the years, penguins became the obvious choice for every occasion. Consequently, each one attaches to a memory.
As I pick up each one to wrap in tissue paper, memories flood back. I’d say it reminds me of that old show, “This is your Life” but, if you remember that, you are definitely old.
The group of family and friends penguins is crowned by a food colored macaroni masterpiece lovingly prepared by my then 6-year-old daughter. My deceased brother gave me a wonderful hand carved wooden sculpture from New Zealand and I love them equally for because of the care that went into their choosing.
I love my family penguins, but my biggest collection comes from 35 years of working as a special teacher to high risk students. Working with them really taught me just how resilient the human spirit can be. It also taught me that whatever is wrong in my life, it is nothing compared to what can be wrong.
For these kids, trust doesn’t come easy. Getting a present is a great honor because it means they allowed themselves to be vulnerable. I have a clay penguin from a girl who survived Kosovo, starving in the caves above the city; a watercolor from a boy whose mother sold him into prostitution. Yeah, these are coming with me.
I was aroused from my musings by hearing Jeanne and Brad come up the walk. You can tell I gave birth to her by the dark chestnut hair and the smiling eyes. Her curvy figure might still be called voluptuous. Brad is a fine match. His sandy brown hair is just beginning to recede a bit. He’s taller than her by a foot with arms and legs that don’t quite seem to match. His soft mannerisms and kind voice suggest a man who has nothing to prove.
“Hi, Mom!” he called as he opened the door. “How’s the packing going?”
“Pretty good,” I responded cheerfully. I think there will only be a couple of boxes for you to store.
“The movers are scheduled for first thing in the morning,” said Jeanne. “How’s your head doing? Are you feeling pretty sentimental?”
Before I could answer, she began looking at a box labeled “Jeanne”. She picked up a snow globe from a trip to Disney World and we started talking about our trip to the alligator farm. Then she found a book from her teenage years that she labeled her, “I’m Going to be a Witch Phase.” Brad got a good laugh out of that.
It’s was probably a good hour later when Jeanne said, “I guess we’re both feeling pretty sentimental.”
“It’s a good thing memories live inside of you and not outside or there would be no room in my little apartment,” I said. “And of course, pictures don’t take up much room.”
“Change is good,” said Brad. “And hard.”
“True,” I said, “But I am excited for some things too. It’s going to be great not to have to worry about things like the yard and the broken garbage disposal. And I love that there will be so many activities to do.” Left to my own devices, I can be a bit anti-social, so it’s nice that the complex scheduled so many social events.
“I’ll start moving some boxes into the car,” said Brad. “We’ll go see your place, maybe meet the staff and move a few things. So, are you ready for a great adventure?”
Yes. Yes I am.
