Feeling a little sad for my oldest brother. He’s moving away today, about four hours up the road.
He’s a very sentimental person, and it’s hard to explain, but his house is one he designed and built himself, so it’s very quirky and unique, just like he is, and it’s built on a corner of our grandparents’ farm, so he has that nostalgic connection as well. She’d given him five acres for his house with the understanding that he’d look after her before she died, which he did.
To say he has a strong attachment to the place is an understatement. His previous dogs are buried there. He knows every nail in it, and over the years, it’s grown up to be a little compound of sorts, with multiple outbuildings for his motorcycles and other things.
It’s gotten to be too much for him to maintain, he’s got some health problems, so he and his wife are moving into a small town, close to her family.
That’s what’s breaking his heart as much as anything. He still lives less than eight miles from where he was born and raised, and that suits him just fine. He’s still friends with people who went to kindergarten with him in 1960 or so. He likes to go around and make sure all the family graves are well-tended, he likes to hop on his “motorcycle du jour” and make the rounds visiting all his family and friends, and he’s giving that up.
On top of that, he’s my parents’ main caregiver, and that’s going to be a huge loss, for him and for them. He feels a huge responsibility to take care of them, being the oldest sibling.
Texts from him the last days and weeks have been depressingly sad, and today’s the day the moving truck comes to haul out the last of it.