My New Home

All my life I have been making choices, as has everyone else in the world. As a kid I chose riding my pony over playing with dolls, much to my parents' distress. When it came time to go to college I chose to go to Colorado University. On graduation, I chose to get married, which nearly all of us did in 1934. We spent six years in the east following my husband's jobs. I enjoyed it all, but was homesick for the mountains. Finally I made another choice. I said, "I've had it. We're going home to Colorado." So with our one year old son we came home.

In 1945 we moved to Grand Junction, certainly one of our best choices. Son number two arrived and the two boys were the definitely the happiest choices we ever made. In 1960 divorce was not a socially acceptable choice, but we made it anyway, and suddenly I was making major choices all by myself again. I made a lot, good and bad. And now, I have made what is probably close to the final major choice of my 90 years. I have moved into the Commons of Hilltop.

How does a person reach a decision like this? It probably starts with birth. All our lives we are making choices. They determine the kind of human being we will be. Of course, things happen over which we have no control, but we get to make most of the choices. When I turned 90 I finally admitted that I am mortal and would soon have to make another choice. I could continue living in my condo and let my friends help, as they did when I fell over the jumping curb, and ask my sons fly up whenever it was necessary and then move me. Or I could make the decision now and the move myself while I had control

We now have here in Grand Junction several excellent retirement facilities, which give us real choices. I thought about it at length, and discussed it seriously with my sons. Their answer was, "Whatever you want to do, whatever will make you happy." My local friends were wonderful. They said essentially the same thing. I knew they would stand by me whatever the decision. So I made it. And here I am at the Commons.

Here I have safety, care if I need it at any time, people around, and new friends to be made, activities, three square meals a day, no housework and complete privacy when I want it in a very nice apartment. Except for the fatigue of moving, Mercury the wonder cat and I are finding it quite pleasant. I am well aware of the serious physical condition of many of the residents, but most of them seem to be coping as well as possible.

Am I going to continue my column? You bet, as long as the Sentinel will keep a liberal writer. Now I will have time to concentrate more on the column and maybe even start the book I have been threatening to write. I can see my friends any time, or hole in with Mercury and read a mystery.

And I do understand Erma Bombeck's ultimate example of choice. "Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert tray."