Roots

Yesterday, my parents loaded up a truck and moved to Florida.  Permanently.  Change of address.

They are well, happy and free of a lot of "crap" that they have collected over the years.  And, I did get a nice set of Christmas dishes out of the move.

When my mom told me that their place was up for sale, I was immediately sad.  Very sad.  And I wasn't really sure.

I called my brother and he said, "omg, what are you sad for?  They are alive and go through their own ****** and distribute it themselves.  Sounds like a good plan.  Get over it."

I did, for awhile.

I am still sad.  I do not know my way around Florida except for the Magic Kingdom. 

I was always proud of being a native of Western Pennsylvania.  I know football, can sing the Farkleberry Tart song, love cold beer, bleed black and gold and love the winters.  I love Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and Westmoreland County.  I love my familiar roads, schools, memories, I love them.

And now my parents have moved south to be the early bird special eaters like George's parents from Seinfeld. 

And they are happy.  They are well and they are not going to an old folks home or assisted living home.  Truly, I am blessed. 

I just wish I still had roots and street that I rode my bike on with no hands.