I have come to believe there are those who fear change and
those who don’t. I’m one of those who
don’t. Why? Because I guess I realize that change in inevitable. It is all around us happening every
day. It is there when we look in the
mirror and it is there when we turn on the television. Change is a part of life. There is political change, social change,
environmental change and aging. Change
cannot be avoided and if possible should not feared. What I do know is that if you don’t adapt to change you will go
by way of the dinosaur…extinct. As
Mark Twain stated, “I don’t mind progress I just don’t like change.”
My wonderful husband despises change. In his mind all change is bad. I guess if it differs from what is safe and
familiar to him he sees no need for it.
We discuss this quite a bit but he is too rigid to bend with the
wind. Someday he will snap. If he had his way it would still be 1956 and
we would be starting first grade all over again.
The first time I went to my husband’s home after we started
dating I thought I had stepped back in time.
Ron was living in the home he had inherited from his parents. His parents built the house in 1967 and it
was exactly the same as the day they moved in.
His mother died in the living room after suffering a fatal brain
aneurism. It was sudden and
unexpected. The room had been sealed
off by Ron’s father and remained as it was since the day she died. The dated magazines noted the month and year
of her death and sat there as if waiting her return. Ron’s father continued to live in the home until his death a few
years prior to my meeting Ron again.
I remember thinking that Ron was living as a caretaker to
his parent’s memory. By not changing
anything he was keeping their memory alive.
Now I realize that it was also just part of his personality. Like his parents he resists change. Over the ten years we dated I was able to
get him to make some minor changes in the home. We painted the den and purchased some furniture to replace the
1967 couch and chairs. But the living
room where his mother died was never touched.
After Ron’s cancer diagnosis and we had decided to get
married he called an estate sales company, packed his clothes and walked out of
the house leaving everything to be sold.
He never went back in the house again and we have never driven by the
house though I have been curious about what the new owners have done to it.
So, I guess when he was faced with the possibility of the
inevitable change of death all the material things didn’t seem so
important. He made a decision to create
a new life for himself with me and I’m so glad he did.
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