My parents are moving.
My mom uses a walker sometimes and can’t manage stairs. My dad, while he’s still skiing, hiking, and fishing, is tired of the never-ending to-do list that comes from owning a house.
They’re both in their eighties.
It’s time.
In a whirlwind Christmas season, we hosted our first-ever Christmas Eve dinner at our house, which has been a tradition in my husband’s family (and always at his parents’ house before) ever since I met him thirty years ago. Two days later, I was in...
Published on January 07, 2019 06:22