Today my husband came home as usual from work but gave me some unexpected news.  My 86 year old mother-in-law, who has been living in her home in a suburb of Philadelphia for sixty years, has decided to move to South Carolina.

To be fair, she talked about it before she left to visit her oldest daughter there, but to my ear it sounded more exploratory than affirmative.  She said she was going to tour a facility her daughter’s father-in-law stayed in.  I didn’t expect such a swift decision, a mere eight days after arriving there.  But, she said she fell in love with the retirement community.  And even though I heard it from my husband and not from her, to my own surprise, I knew she had made the right decision.

In hindsight, she did tell all five of her children that she was exploring the idea.  I should have realized that she was more serious about moving.  And there are many reasons for her to move.  For one, she is more isolated in her home, even though she has lived in the community for sixty years.  The neighborhood has changed.  Many people her age no longer live there.  Younger families have moved in, just as she did as a newlywed sixty years ago.  Her social contacts are mainly through her church, which she attends weekly, and her quilting group, which she attends once a month.  She does have a daughter and son-in-law nearby, but they both work and have their own lives.

Her family in South Carolina, however, includes a daughter and son-in-law (who are both retiring this year and will have lots of free time), as well as her granddaughter and her husband and their daughter.  How cool is that?  Four generations living in the same vicinity, not to mention the people she will meet in the retirement community.

My discomfort about even the thought of my mother-in-law moving stems more from romanticism that reality.  I went to five schools in seven years.  I don’t have a childhood home.  I found the idea romantic.

Imagine how many letter carriers retired delivering letters to her residence.

Imagine having the same phone number since 1956.

But the reality is that Philly is a tough place to live.  It’s crowded.  Traffic is bad. The summers are hot and the winters are bitter cold.  Most importantly for my mother-in-law, the property taxes are high and draining her savings.  It’s not the best place to retire, which is why many retirees move away.

And so, surprisingly, I am happy for her.  I know she is making the right decision.  To be closer to more of her family and to be able engage in activities with people her age in warmer weather are valid reasons to move.  Her great-grandaughter will grow up knowing three generations before her.  That is worth its weight in gold.

In fact, I’m slightly jealous.   I told my husband that I would be willing to move if a job opens up.  He dismissed the idea.  Nevertheless, this turn of events brought up issues for me, most notably that I identify myself as an east coaster, even though I’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest longer than I have lived anywhere else.  I miss that old world feeling and friendships that I had there.

Then again, maybe I’m just romanticizing again.