Transitions. His death shreds my soul, workplace “downsizing” shreds my psyche, quick sale of my children’s childhood home and extensive vegetable garden shreds my heart. On to condo living, plants in pots, popcorn at seven replaces dinner promptly at five, neighbors not known for thirty years. A geranium blooms. Transitions.

Unretiring from the same company three times, two monthly columns running in the Happenings newspaper, blessed enough to live within ‘hollerin’ distance of five children, twenty-one grandchildren, five great grandchildren and three great-great grandchildren keeps Rose’s daylight hours busy, so most writing is done after bedtime. However, her bedtime and the rest of her life has recently changed dramatically, as interpreted in this story.