Chris has been talking about our last residence quite a lot lately, a beautiful place where mornings we’d have breakfast looking out over lawns and hedges, a sweeping drive.
He was saying it was the perfect house for us and he wishes we could buy it. But as a caregiver? I disagree.
A white bungalow, yes, the house was small and so-o-o perfect. But with it? Half an acre of green lawn and wide, curved flower beds requiring considerable maintenance.
Off to one side a pathway through some magnificent firs led to a little white cottage which became my office. From here I could view wisteria draped trellises, and hear water ripple in the fountains
It was a very private, very spiritual place.
But the owners came back sooner than they had expected. It meant an upheaval; moving sooner than we had anticipated.
Now the house is for sale, Chris told me at dinner. for about $800,000.
Right now we rent a small apartment which is more suited to our situation. Somehow, I suspect it will be even more so in the future.
Take the bedroom here for instance. We wall-mounted the TV, there’s an ensuite bath with a shower. And there is an outer door that closes all this off from the suite.
This feature allowed him to rest quietly while we moved.
I also have a den where I can write in privacy. It isn’t a cottage in the trees, but on the other hand, I don’t have to go outside, leaving Chris alone. I can work on the computer and hear his every move and call.
The living room and dining room are not spacious, but with Chris’ limited mobility? It’s good the space is small.
And since the reduction in income because of Chris’ health, our pensions cover not only the rent, but all the basics. Driving is limited. The lab where he gets his blood tests? Right across the street. Really, as a caregiver, what more could one wish for?
Not a six figure mortgage.