The phone rang; I looked at the Caller ID and answered it.    Mom was on the other end. She had a bad day, while trying to cut the grass that morning the lawnmower had quit and wouldn‘t start. She said that she “tried and tried and pulled the rope until she almost killed herself” then she gave up and went in the house.

Sitting in the living room chair, she started thinking about why she lives there. She came to the conclusion to sell her house and move to an apartment.    Several of her friends on her bowling league live in apartments and they seem to like it. She said the house is just too much for her and thinks moving is the right thing to do. She had it all planned out, she would keep some money for herself and give the rest to us kids; so she would be alive to see us enjoy our inheritance.

At first, I tried to talk her into staying in the house, I suggested she hire a lawn service, or let us kids take care of things. Because I don’t like living in apartments, I didn’t think she would. But, she had answers for everything I said; she is old and settled, she’d like it etc. So, I decided to support her in her decision.

I started to look inside myself and ask why I was uncomfortable with her wanting to move. I realized I feel as though moving to an apartment is her last stage in life and it brings the realization she isn’t going to be around forever. I mean, I know she has to die sometime, but talking about this move just made it more of a reality. Along with that comes knowing my home will be gone, the family “nest” will no longer be there.    Mom’s house is the place I was born and raised.    Our holidays are spent there with the family. Mom and her home seems to be the glue that holds us together. Mom’s a Christian, so I know she will go to heaven to be with Jesus, and she has lots of people up there waiting for her; my Dad being one of them. (That’s another story for later...)

The reason I was bothered by this move has more to do with selfish reasons than anything else. I realized it was hard for me to think about, because I’m single and don’t have children. My two sisters have families, so when our parents are both gone, and that family has ended so to speak, they will still have their families. Does this make sense? I think there is a fear of being alone and of growing older myself.    Mom was always the one I went to for comfort and strength when I was little; she always took care of things, now it’s my turn to take care of her. That is a hard role to reverse.

So, here I was with all of this inside of me. I prayed and God gave me peace, comfort and acceptance. One day, we went apartment hunting. We saw three different places, they were very nice. I was being positive and encouraging, pointing out all the benefits of living in each one.    When we got in the car to leave, Mom said she didn’t think she’d like living

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