It Does Take

It wasn’t easy.

I didn’t admit it even to myself when it was happening.

Leaving a home that had snuggled me in its comfort for half a century took an emotional toll.

I departed from a kitchen with ample counter space and a cluster of shelves that accommodated my spices and herbs and voluminous cookbooks.

I left a sunny room that embraced my computer, printer and thesaurus as well as providing a view allowing my dreams and memories to translate into manuscripts.

I chose to say goodbye to a beloved posse and move away. I said adieu to the luxurious nurturing care of the Red Door in Woodbury, the carefree convenience of a Hampton Jitney trip into NY theatre, as well as the weekly solace of a Saturday night supper in the Massapequa diner with a cherished friend and a Wednesday luncheon at Palmers in Farmingdale with another. I abandoned the extravagant selection of stores and boutiques available in the Huntington Mall.

No, I can finally acknowledge. It wasn’t easy.

I wasn’t certain if I had made a mistake as I closed the door for the final time.

That was 14 months ago.

Yesterday, the moment I realized I had a problem, I knew I was grateful I had heeded the gentle and wise advice of the Fabulous Four.

My predicament wasn't one requiring a 911 call, or a response from an EMS.

And possibly, it will be difficult for others to comprehend my choice of words calling it a problem and viewing it as an emergency..

But we all have different categories of need; some convenience, others physical or emotional as well as spiritual. Yesterday mine fell into the first category.

Early Sunday morning I realized I needed help. My TV would not allow me to stream a movie I had scheduled to watch with my gentleman caller.

Will, my grandson, arrives precisely each Sunday, and we do have an agenda, varied and interesting. It is always one we both totally enjoy. Because of the time limitations of his visits, occasionally we divide certain aspects of our curriculum into weekly segments.

One routine involves watching historic movies and documentaries that he chooses through the magic of Netflix and/or Amazon. Normally this is a simple process and one my son had taught me several years ago.

Thanks to his expert instruction, I am rather good at finding, selecting and enjoying a utopia of entertainment. However, not so yesterday morning. Nothing worked, and the final segment of our weekly film was impossible to locate. The screen remained blank.

Reluctantly, I called the front desk, where there is always, not only a friendly voice, but someone knowledgable about oh, so many things; where to eat, where to shop, who to call for advice. The staff is always an amazing source of constant assistance and information.

And so it was, again yesterday. Within minutes Sarah arrived in my apartment and with the telephone assistance of her brother, who is far more knowledgable than either of us, soon had my appliance working perfectly.

A trivial inconvenience, you might say, and perhaps you are right. However, after she left, and I awaited my visitor, whose view of the world mandates routine, I sat quietly and pondered.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that if I had chosen not to move forward in time, the emotional support as well as physical and technical comfort I now enjoy would not be available. I know at this stage of life I need that far more than the abundant spices, and herbs I left behind.

Sometimes the varied blessings the Lord sends my way take time to totally appreciate. I understood that yesterday, and once more gave thanks.

And I also recalled the words of The Magician so long ago.

Don’t be afraid.