I meant to write yesterday as we’d gone to a concert Monday night. It was an absolutely amazing group of performers, consisting of Bombargo (a band out of Canada and by far, the most positive, dynamic group you’ve never heard of), Steven Marley (yes, Bob Marley’s son, and every bit the performer you’d expect), and Michael Franti (one of the most amazing live, interactive shows I’ve ever seen). That will come tomorrow or Thursday.

But today, I write feeling my melancholy deep in my bones. My wife’s aunt and uncle informed close family that they will be moving to Silver Springs, sooner than later. It was going to happen. Her Aunt S is 84 and just had a hip replacement in March. Her Uncle C is in his early 70’s and is no spring chicken (although he is certainly more active than most 70somethings I know). I think that Aunt S’s health issues finally caught up with them and they realized that more care was needed. They went on a cruise in February of 2020 and she returned with what everyone assumed was Covid. I could never be proven as such, but whatever she had, took (and still takes) a lot out of her.

They’ve been surrogate parents for my wife as she worked through the deaths of both her mom and dad (Aunt S’s brother) within 18 months of each other. The support they gave us during that time and since was so comforting. S would pull out old pictures (I’m afraid we will get those as they move) and they’d tell old family stories and reminisce together. They were surrogate grandparents for my daughters, spoiling them every time we saw them. There was always cake and ice cream along with books and stories and sharing about their mother!

Next to my parents’ acreage, their place is the single most relaxing place on earth. While my mom and dad had several acres to create this oasis of peace and serenity, Uncle C and Aunt S created this in a residential area in Iowa City. In the autumn and early spring, we grab comforters, a hot drink, and head out to the screened-in porch and read or talk. There was always jazz music coming from somewhere in the house (Uncle C is a HUGE audiophile with a huge collection of epic jazz and blues artists, both in vinyl and CD forms) and there was always a glass of wine and a Costco something for supper. Aunt S is the poster child for Costco shopping!

This isn’t to discount the need to move. Their kids are out there and have shown zero interest in moving back or even visiting. We enjoy the company of both of Aunt S’s kids, but when they left the nest, they had no intention of returning (I see parallels with our daughters in that they will never come home). That’s become even more solidified with the political climate of Iowa. So being close to them, to get the care they are finding they need, only makes sense.

Still, it will be so sad to see them go. They’ve always held a special place in our lives and always will. I just sent the “congratulations” text and offered our services whenever they’d like to assist in prepping for the move. In our 30 years of marriage, we’ve moved seven times, helped our daughters move too many times, and my parents moved into town. My wife is a master Tetris player, getting things to fit tightly together and I’m the brute force guy (everyone needs one of those around).

It won’t be goodbye, it will be see you later. One of my students taught me that goodbye is too final. So we’ll say our “see you later” and hope for the best while time keeps its steady march forward.

The only constant is change, and sometimes, change is so hard.