We've loved our 7 years in Albuquerque, especially the last 5 in this neighborhood and house, but we're selling our home, buying a new one, and moving to Tucson. We're also selling ALL OUR STUFF. This means the table where I took my meals from childhood to now, furniture Jack's used daily for decades, the grandfather clock I bought in the early 80's in celebration of my first big income tax refund, our bedroom suite (inherited from my father), my writing desk, our plates and glasses and silverware, the candle holders on our table, our chairs, sofas, futons, our TV's... and all but a couple of the quilts and "throws" my long-deceased and much loved grandmother made on her ancient sewing machine to keep me warm. Does this mean I don't love granny-grunt (it's an affectionate nickname, trust me) anymore? Nah. She'll always live in my heart and keep it warm, even without her handmade throws. It was just TIME.
I can't really define TIME, in this context or any other, but I suspect most folks know what I mean. Jack and I decided to make this move to Tucson a fresh start for two aging men.
Okay, so we're not exactly ancient yet. I'm 53, Jack's 59. We're both active and healthy and obnoxiously fit for our ages. But we can't ignore we're only referred to as "young men" these days when we're in the company of octogenarians. Yet "starting fresh" feels like the appropriate way to describe this process.
Wish us well on this fresh start for old farts.