It’s been four weeks since Marika’s hip replacement surgery, All went very well, and, according to her surgeon, she is healing ahead of schedule. She gave up her walker and is now sporting a cane. She’s driving and running errands, and even went to a friend’s house for some backyard birding.
I did a great job as her care helper. She got her meds on time, had clean laundry, dishes, groceries, had her potty moved and emptied every day, and I even found ways to make getting her TED hose stockings on more fun.
I felt like I was channeling my father, the efficient caretaker, while trying to infuse some of my mother’s compassion in the mix. Still, Marika will tell you I was too controlling, and she couldn’t wait to be independent.
So while she was recovering, I continued to get things ready for the house sale and getting back on the road. I’d gone through all of the “things” in the house, and was starting to look at storage spaces for our boxes of stuff and the few small pieces of furniture I wanted to keep. I had a cash buyer willing to pay my price, and a list of five estate companies that I was ready to interview about the bulk of the furniture. Everything was lined up for us sell the house and pull out of town at the end of April.
And maybe it was because everything was falling so easily into place, that I was able to see another option. Marika had been saying, all along, that she loves being in the house, and suggested I hold onto it so we could come back every year.
But I had always, adamantly, said I didn’t want to keep the house, that I didn’t want to live in Phoenix, that I hate the heat, and have no attachment to the actual house. But in the middle of March, a week or two after Marika’s hip surgery, something shifted.
Maybe it was how often we were both saying, over and over again, how grateful we were to have the house for her to recover in. Marika had her own bedroom, with a bed she could easily get in and out of, the halls were wide enough for her walker, and she had a huge shower with room for a shower bench so that she could easily bathe herself. We had a washer and dryer, a second freezer, long, carpeted hallways for indoor ball playing, and a huge, enclosed yard that Tillie loves. The house may be outdated, but it’s fully functional, paid off, and in very good condition.
And suddenly, I realized that keeping the house didn’t mean we had to live in it all year. We could still travel and volunteer, and come back to the house in the winter, when the weather is practically the best in the country, where we have friends and community. Heck, we can even volunteer and take classes, like other snowbirds who only live here part of the year. And we can still travel in the winter if we want to, using the house as a hub.
Living in this north central neighborhood is very different than living in busy, bustling Central Phoenix. I rarely have to wait to make a left turn onto the main street, four supermarkets are within a mile, many favorite restaurants are within twenty minutes, and we’re only a couple of miles from both major freeways.
And house values in Phoenix are only going up, so it seems like a good financial decision too. The gardener will continue to mow the lawns and keep the property looking good, the neighbor will check the mailbox for stray mail, and a friend will drop by to check on things while we’re gone.
I couldn’t believe it took me so long to figure it out. Maybe I had to grieve the relationship I had with the house, and the things in it, and find ways to make it my own. Maybe I needed to see the value of the choice. I know both of my parents would be tickled, knowing we’ve decided to keep it.
And so, instead of packing up my mother’s fine china that she bought at Fortunoff’s on Long Island, we took them out for our Passover Seder. It was just the two of us, but it was very special, telling family stories and the Passover story, with fun pandemic humor, and the old red Haggadahs, me reading the Hebrew, Marika reading the English, and me, drinking way more Manishchewitz wine than usual, because I wasn’t driving home.
And the meal was delicious. We ordered some brisket from Chompies, which was OK, but I must say, I have mastered my mother’s crispy, almost burnt on the outside, creamy on the inside roasted potatoes. And I made carrot tzimmis for the first time, and there were string beans, too. All so so good. Next year, I hope there will be many more people around the table.
When I first decided to keep the house, I considered how to not make it look vacant. I offered a friend the use of the garage for a new studio space while we were gone. I even offered him indoor space, if he wasn’t doing his dusty gourd carving. He considered it, but declined.
And then I realized that I could set up a studio space for myself! The idea gave me all kinds of giddy goosebumps. Years ago I had imagined turning the master bedroom into a studio, because it’s a 20 x20 room with huge closet storage space. But when I stood in the room and began to visualize things, the room felt stagnant, and had terrible light.
Marika encouraged me to consider the family room, which is next to the kitchen. The room is cozy, with a wall of west-facing windows, wood paneling, and a linoleum floor. I spent hours sketching where I’d put my tables and shelves and work spaces when we returned in the winter. And then my friend Judy said, “Let’s do it now.”
She helped me move everything that had been stored in the family room into the master bedroom, and then we moved tables and shelves into the family room, which is now, officially, my studio.
I kept very few books, supplies, pieces of art when we sold Marika’s house and moved into the RV full-time in 2016. Most of what I kept, I haven’t seen since 2012. It has been AH-MAZING to touch and connect with the precious pieces I chose to keep. Each with a special story, most that I made. They are truly reminding me of my authentic self. And yes, that fabulous yellow furniture was my teen bedroom set.
For my birthday this year, Judy asked me what I wanted to do. Now that we’re keeping the house, I can begin collecting boxes, objects, future parts of art pieces – one of my very favorite things to do.
So on my birthday we picked up my very fancy, very delicious Princess Torte, and then spent the morning at thrift stores, looking, touching, having a funderful time. And it felt so amazingly wonderful to know that I could buy anything I saw, because I have the space to begin collecting again. And I am even more excited because now I can go thrifting on the road, too, and bring things back to the studio.
While I’ve been unpacking and organizing the new space, I’ve also been idea-ing about a piece I want to make using my father’s handkerchiefs and pants hangers. It has been so fun to gather materials from my stashes, sketch possible compositions, scribble story notes, and get lost in the process of creating. And I have no deadline or need to finish before we leave town later this month, because I know I will be back.
We’ll be closing up the house and getting the RV out of storage later this month, then spending two nights at our local RV park, so we can clean the RV, prep, and pack for the road.
We were originally heading to Brookings, Oregon, on the coast just north of the California border, to volunteer with the Fish and Wildlife, educating folks about shorebirds and tide pools. It was the job we were supposed to do last summer, but it was cancelled due to Covid. Restrictions are still in place, so the job, while in a gorgeous place, would offer us limited public contact.
And after a year of mostly being with just ourselves, we both need more engagement with others. So we bowed out of the Oregon job and accepted a volunteer position with Mendocino Parks in California, working in the various state park visitors centers in the area. We’ll be camped at Russian Gulch State Park May 15 through Labor Day.
We’re both excited that we’ll be learning things, exploring a new place, and engaging with the public. Many of our California friends have promised to come visit, and we have friends that just built a cabin ten miles up the road, and they’ll be spending a good part of the summer there.
We’ll be taking our time to get from here to the coast, with a week’s stop at the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge north of Salt Lake City, Utah. We’ll be there during spring migration, which should make Marika very happy. Then we’ll head west through Nevada, and into California.
I am excited to share the RVing life with Tillie, to take nature walks, romp on the beach, and explore together. She’s settling in so well, no longer getting into things when she’s left alone, and she comes every time I call her. She loves the daily routine of taking out the trash with me, has so much fun playing ball, and is also happy to entertain herself with her assorted squeaky toys. And just this week, I brought out Cody’s Chuck It Launcher and ball, and she loved it.
So these last few weeks we’ll be taking care of final appointments, stocking up on big city foods and supplies, and readying to return to life on the road. As always, it will be different leaving, this time especially so, knowing we have a house to come home to.
YOUR TURN
Do you recall a time when you were certain about making a choice and then changed your mind? How did you “know” you wanted to make a different choice? How did it feel? Did you have any regrets? Gratitudes?
I invite you to take out paper, pen, colors, clay, paint……and explore the questions.
Perhaps you’d even like to share in the comments.
As much as we love life on the road, I think you’re really going to enjoy having a home base. For all the reasons you shared and for the reassurance that you have a place…a shelter should an unexpected storm come up. Love to you and Marika!
I agree, Dolly. AND, when I know where I DO want to eventually settle, THEN I can sell this house.