This summer my mother will be moving. She’s lived at her current residence for over fifty years. She and my dad designed the split-level ranch and went through many joys and traumas on that property.
She lives there alone and will be eighty this year. While her health has been good, she’s not as spry as she once was and moving to a house with less stairs would be a good option.
The reason for her move has nothing to do with her health or mental state. The state wants to build a highway next to her house. The limited access highway will cut off access to her property. It will be too expensive to build a bridge for her and the other three residents of the area, so the state is buying the whole property. They will likely demolish the house, the barns and other outbuildings as well as eliminate the road that accesses it.
Things change. And the timing of this with my mother’s age and health is probably good. Yet it is hard to wrap my head around the idea. The house I grew up in will no longer be there. We won’t even be able to visit the property because the road will be gone. And when we see it, it will be unrecognizable. It will exist as it was only in my memory and right now that doesn’t seem like enough.