Another move. Another question of timing. Another search for balance.

I’ve decided to sell my house and move. Next January I’m scheduled to get the keys to my comfortable garden home located in The Christian Village at Mason.

Some who have heard the news have told me they think this is a good decision. Those who may be surprised or skeptical or confused haven’t said so, but if they had, I’d understand.

It may seem to others—some days it seems to me—like I’m making this move too soon.

Carefree lifestyle

The Christian Village, as many readers of this blog know, is a retirement community offering the full range of possible living arrangements: one-floor condo-type homes for independent living (that’s where I’ll be), assisted living apartments, memory care, rehab, skilled nursing, and hospice. More than 40 years ago, Evelyn’s mother lived there and happily experienced most of these levels of care before she passed away.

But I’m not moving because I need care. For as long as I’m able (and I hope that will be a really long time), I’ll be as independent there as I am now.

But I won’t be taking care of a home. No painting. No repairs. No concerns about an aging roof. No weeding (unless I want to play in a little plot, which I figure I will). No appliance shopping. No mowing or shoveling. No bills for pest control, trash pickup, or basic cable. Free gym membership. (I may actually find my way to a treadmill.) Truly carefree, maintenance-free living.

Besides that, the place is beautiful. Acres and acres of lucious lawns bordered by perfectly maintained landscaping. All kind of flowers everywhere. You can’t imagine more pleasant surroundings.

Older neighbors

I’ll be living in a community of senior citizens. All of them are at least 70 (the minimum entrance age). And even though I’m well past the minimum (Bless the first marketing person I met there for questioning whether I was old enough to apply), I don’t feel old. It took me awhile to decide to enter the world of walkers and bingo tournaments and a sea of white hair at every activity.

But I know I’m not getting any younger. I’m slower for sure. Tired, maybe. Definitely done with keeping up a house, especially by myself.

I’m sure Evelyn and I would not be making this move if she were well and we were continuing to build our life together. But we’re not, of course, and that underscores another motive for me. I’m ready for a fresh start in a place that will feel new by the time the Village readies it (as they do for every new resident) with fresh paint, replaced countertops, and new appliances.

Elusive goal

But still the question remains. Given my good health and active life, am I making this move a little too soon?

We moved here 22 years ago, when that tree was barely as tall as the gutters on the garage roof.

Maybe. But it seems to me there’s no perfect time for a move like this. It will be either too soon or too late. Many residents of the village have said, “We waited too long to move here.” More than one lived only a year or two before serious health issues set in.

It’s a challenge that accompanies almost every situation:  Balance is an elusive goal.

How does the parent first facing a toddler or a teenager know whether they’re too strict or too lenient?

How do a husband and wife agree when one spends lavishly and calls the other one cheap?

How do we lose weight or get fit? By trying some drastic all-or-nothing lifestyle change that is destined not to last? Or by moderating diet and pursuing exercise for a lifetime?

The place where I’m moving. They’re glad to make changes, but I want to keep the burgundy door.

I went through a similar thought process when I decided it was time for Evelyn to enter residential care. We were coping then, barely. But only a few months after her move, I was convinced she needed more attention than I could possibly have provided at home.

As it turns out, her move came at just about the perfect time: when the need was real but before we were in a crisis.

Perfect time?

Time will tell whether I’m making this move too soon. But I know for sure I’m not too late.

I have no chronic health concerns. I’m busy and involved with other people. All that will continue.

But if the water heater leaks or the stove breaks or the plumbing clogs, the problem will be solved with just one phone call.

To me, this seems like the perfect time for that kind of life.