The Chronicles of Florida: An unexpected finale

Oh yes, just when you thought it was safe to read CTN again...

The Chronicles of Florida return, not unlike a bad dream that you just can't shake off in the small hours of the morning.

Just in case you need a refresher: Day 1 * Day 2 * Day 3 * The Introduction * The Liar, The Witch, & The Wardrobe * Homeward Bound

We have been home for several weeks now, and Mom and I have (as usual) talked several times each week, sometimes daily.

The first hint that something was going on down there in the land of Seniors, Sand, Sun, and Surf was a casual remark that my Mom made about three weeks ago. She indicated that The Stepdad was talking about a bridge loan. So that they could move. Not home; no, nowhere near The Greater Metro, but someplace other than their present location. They were both now very unhappy there, and growing more discontented by the day.

The next time we spoke, the bridge loan was a done deal; The Stepdad had been approved. The moving company that had brought them to Florida barely a year ago was called, and a date set. To be honest, I had taken the "I'll believe it when I see it" attitude, but both my Mom and The Stepdad were in great good spirits at the thought of leaving Florida.

Two weeks ago, the moving company came and made the estimate; Mom and The Stepdad started getting ready by hauling their suitcases out of storage.

On this past Monday, I FedEx'd Mom an old cell phone of mine that I set up for them to use for the trip. It increases my peace of mind by an untold amount to know that at least they will have a way to get in touch with help should something (God forbid) occur.

Tomorrow morning, the moving company is supposed to come, and pack everything up.

Friday afternoon, after the moving company has loaded all the boxes and furniture, they will start driving toward their new "Retirement Community".

Located just Two Hours East of here.

That's right. They are moving back to Two Hours East.

In about a week, my Mom and I will once again both live on the same page in the Rand-McNally atlas. For the first time in about 10 years.

I.Am.Happy.

The Daughters of Doom and Gloom aside, Two Hours East means we can go see Mom every weekend if we want to (and we want to. Really we do.) It means that I can zip over to get Mom for the important little events - like when Twinks has her next ceremonial in the OFG. And this year, for the first time in 10 years, Mom will be able to go with us to our "home church" for Christmas Eve Midnight Mass. The Wrench is every bit as thrilled as I am; as I've told you before, he and my Mom are great friends, and he absolutely adores her. She thinks he is the best thing since sliced bread; when they are together there is always laughter, and they are fiercely protective of one another.

Twinks and I have already made the drive over, to wander through the new "community" and to take pictures of the lovely duplex cottages where they will live. We carefully avoided The Daughters of Doom and Gloom, and I drove Twinks around the little city where Mom and The Stepdad lived when she was a baby. We drove past the house they had occupied previously, and I pointed out half-a-hundred "landmarks" that she had only seen as an infant, but had heard about. We had a lovely afternoon.

My Mom's new house is going to be 113 miles from our front door, one way. Almost exactly two hours driving time.

Happy.Happy.Happy.