A Blonde's Perspective - 'Just another day in paradise'

By Jan Stadtherr

Over 15 years ago, we moved to our cabin on a lake 40 miles northwest of Brainerd. Our plan was to live in our new “home” for the remainder of our golden years and to encounter many new adventures during our final chapter.

But due to the aging process of going up and down stairs many times a day, doing the year-around chores both inside and outside, driving many miles for medical attention, to attend church, or buy groceries and other necessities, we sadly realized we needed to enter another chapter and move to a single-level home where all our needs are nearby.

As we journey through life, we often arrive at crossroads, each marked by change. For us and many other seniors, the decision to relocate can represent one of the most significant transitions we face. After years spent building a home full of memories—where each corner resonates with laughter, love, and even struggle—deciding to leave behind our familiar comforts can weigh heavily on our hearts. It is bittersweet.

The decision to move has been filled with mixed emotions. While I am excited to be in a new home—a place where everything is within reach—I cannot help but feel a pang of nostalgia for our lakeside retreat. I will miss the serene mornings punctuated by the haunting call of loons and the vibrant sunset sun rises and sunsets that painted the sky in hues of orange and purple. The friendships forged over 15 years, filled with shared laughter and sorrow, have woven a rich tapestry of memories that will forever hold a special place in my heart. Each of our family and good friends contributed to the fabric of my life, reminding me of the importance of connection, community, and companionship.

We started the process of relocating by purchasing a home in Alexandria with hopes that our house would sell quickly. It sold in two days. The new owners, who owned a smaller cabin on our lake, told us to take our time. But the task of packing boxes and totes took longer than expected, which I attribute to the aging process of pooping out after just a few boxes are packed. Movers were hired and did a fantastic job of packing and transporting our belongings safely including a sign, “Just another day in paradise” that hung in our lake home, and now has a place in our new abode. I remind myself that paradise is not simply solitary location. It’s a state of mind. The shift from our cherished lake home to a new environment brings with it the promise of new adventures. The convenience of being close to medical care is invaluable at this stage in life. No longer will I have to navigate winding gravel roads to access essential services. Instead, I will enjoy the practicality of well-paved paths leading me to the things I need. Plus, I can look forward to a cleaner car! Now the process begins to find a new church, doctor, dentist, and the most difficult choice—a new hairdresser to care for my silver golden thinning locks!

A friend left behind called one day to see how it was going. I told her I miss the call of the loons and now I hear train whistles. A few days later I received a CD from her of loon calls. What a special gift! Now I can still fall asleep to the beautiful song of the state bird.

So, while I may feel a bittersweet longing for what I left behind, I take solace in the belief that this move is not a goodbye to my past but a continuation of my journey. My heart may be heavy, but my spirit is lifted by the excitement of this new chapter—one where the promise of paradise awaits, just down the street.