Okay, okay. They’re not going to another galaxy, but my parents are moving.

I have never lived more than about 25 minutes from my parents, and that was only for the last 7 years or so. Until then I lived not even 5 minutes away.
Being a single mom I knew that living so close to my parents was invaluable. They were my support structure, my backup, my babysitters, my please-come-to-this-school-meeting-with-me. Changing jobs and moving away wasn’t an option because my son and I needed our family.
They were always there for me, and I got to spend pretty much every family occasion with my parents.

Now my mommy and daddy darling are both retired, they’ve sold the house we moved into when I started high school, and they’re moving into a cottage being built for them on my sister C’s property.
My daddy darling’s health isn’t spectacular and they want to spend their time in each other’s company, and I am so very glad for them both, that they will be able to spend their golden years together. And its a smaller house than the one they were in for nearly 28 years so its easier to maintain, and of course- their precious pooches are going along with them.

They’ve spent the last few months – since the house was sold – packing up boxes and giving things away in order to fit into their new house. We’ve all been given all kinds of things from clothing to crockery, and I have several antique pieces I’m going to try and sell for my folks as well.

The packing and sorting and preparation has made the last few weeks very busy, which has kinda helped…

I no longer need a babysitter, or someone to accompany me to school meetings, but when I think about just how far away my parents are moving it makes me want to cry.

And I know its ridiculous. I’m still going to see them. I’m still going to visit. But they’re not going to be round the corner anymore.