One of the hard parts of being a widower is living without regular, adult supervision. The importance of adult supervision came home to me in a conversation with a friend. She has recently left her condo and moved into an OFH, not mine. In this conversation she reported that she's making two trips a week to bring things to Goodwill. These are things that were moved from the condo to the OFH.
After moving to the OFH, I took one grocery sack of stuff to Goodwill, that's all. Am I so much more brilliant than she? Nope! What is the difference then? Clearly, the difference is adult supervision. Her sons are geographically distant: California and Georgia! My children and family are in Minneapolis and their supervision was superb.
Take books for an example. There were many books in my condo even though I'd taken 25 grocery sacks of books to the library when we moved from the house to the condo. Not only that I'd dispersed my theological library from my study at church when I retired. In spite of that there were still many books. In the condo packing process for moving to the OFH, as the adult supervisors left one day they said "Dad, before we come tomorrow decide which books you want to keep." When they came the next day a car load of surplus books were boxed to bring to sell to Half Price Books. (Will I ever see any of them in the store? 😀) That's what good adult supervision looks like.
It reminds me of once staying with one of my brothers. Preparing to go to church his wife looked at what my brother was wearing and said "We don't wear that tie with that shirt." 😄
Takk for alt,
Al
PS No one else has fessed up to being a grammar snob. 😊
Every Sunday in church I get to hear 'Joanne's piano.'
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