My grandmother recently moved out of her house, the house in which she has lived since 1941 when she got married. No one in my family thought she would ever leave that house, and she certainly talked as if she didn't relish the idea. In the last year, however, her health really has worsened to the point that a 5 bedroom house in the country just wasn't a feasible residence.
She's had her name on a list at an assisted living place for about two years, and has found excuses every time a room came up not to take it, but suddenly, in June, a room came free and she snapped it up.
I went to visit her, and far from being sad or angry at the move, she seems suddenly sprightly! She was introducing me to her friends, chatting up the staff, going to exercise class in the mornings. After I visited with her, I went to the house to help with some of the final cleaning. It was strange, seeing the place mostly empty.
But here's the strangest part. It wasn't sad. I thought it would be sad, but it was all sort of hopeful. As if, tied together, my grandma and the house were sinking, but separated, they both have possibilities. Someone has bought that house, and might have a joyful life in it. It will get cleaned and spruced up and taken care of, and so will my grandma!
It can be an unexpected happiness to let something go.
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