Massive Delayed Reaction

In the winter of 1959-1960 the family moved.  A beloved house was sold for a few very practical reasons.  The “new” house, which was just as old as the old one, that is, built somewhere around the time of the First World War, had an entirely different style.  It was some years before it, too, became beloved.  The first did not have some features the second did, but the reverse was equally true, so it was never really determined which was the preferred house.  To this day, personal circumstances being different, either house would be okay.  The neighborhoods are debatable. 

The street address for house #1 was 318.  The street address for house # 2 was 329.  One street address before that was 515, and one street address for other relatives was 1229, either of which may have added to some confusion.  Regardless, all of the streets had very different names, which could have made it easier to keep things straight.  More important, the people in question were presumed to be caring relatives, who didn’t have more than a half-dozen street addresses of family to keep straight.  There was also very little need to contend with any frequent address changing. 

Sometime after the change of location (seems like it was a couple of years at least) one day completely surprisingly, a package arrived but it was addressed to a house across the street (328).  It was surprising because it was thought the people in question had even used the correct address for the likes of cards at Christmas.  Verbally the numbers don’t sound the same.  Well, today, after nearly fifty years, yours truly realized the numbers don’t sound the same, but written down they take on a different aspect.  Numerically 318 is close to 328 in looks.  They memorized by sight. 

It takes a while to fathom some things. 

Sitting At The Old Folks’ Home

At the old folks’ home quite often there isn’t much to do.  Life is largely simply a matter of taking care of oneself.  As already noted, a few people may have an animal that needs walking or other care.  A couple of people may baby sit while their daughter (or maybe son) is at work.  Some people do have jobs.  A few do have hobbies.  But, a substantial number just take care of themselves, which is enough to do as once a few years are added to the personal history, folks get slower and slower when in action.  The taking care of oneself can be intricate if there is a medical concern. 

At any rate, there’s less to do, which is good.  And, there’s a reluctance to get into some things, including driving anywhere.  Some residents kill time, ideally in some place designed for it.  Some places are “urban” enough that there’s little or no possibility of doing something outside of the building due to anything from lack of space to traffic.  And, there are some places which are more residential with some measure of grounds around the building equipped for some staying outdoors.  While the scenery is pretty much unchanged from day to day, some of the people do change. 

With the apartment building at hand for yours truly, there are some grounds, benches, static scenery and considerable quiet.  One can sit outside on those benches on a sunny, not-too-warm day and it seems like, to misquote and old saying, God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world.  The river flows west placidly seeking the sea.  The traffic flows north or south across the bridge over it, quietly because it’s too far away to hear the noise.  And, if one thinks just a little bit, it’s not hard to remember that somewhere “over there” maybe behind the trees if not across the river, someone is getting killed. 

Reality is not too far distant.