Standing at the Crossroads...

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Still sorting through stuff from our relative's house following their death last weekend. It's quite extraordinary to me that someone could live in the same (relatively) small semi-detached house for practically all their adult life. I've lived in so many places over my time that the very concept itself is just plain alien. The most settled I've been is in our present home, and even at my age I can't rule out further change.

I think that for some people, after too long in a given situation or context, a fear of change sets in, which eventually becomes entrenched and phobic, so that the very notion of moving on is anathema. Add into the mix chronic illness and a reluctance to accept outside help and the result is eventual isolation and a lonely death. Not pretty or uplifting, but in one sense a self-determined and planned fate, so one can't argue with the purity of it. Everyone has their crossroads at some point in their life.

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