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Checked Into God's Waiting Room

When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on. Franklin D. Roosevelt

It's not a nursing home, it's a retirement home. That's what my kids tell us. They say it will be easier for us and easier for them. Regardless of what it's called, I think it's God's waiting room. This will be the last place we will live. It's very weird to think and even say that. We've traveled the world. Put three kids through college. We've lived a good life. It's so scary to see mortality at our door.

I'm lucky that my wife is still alive and I can enjoy her company. We try to do all the routine activities we used to do, but with my bad hips and her bad back we are so limited. If I had to be honest, I would agree with this place whatever you want to call it is the right place for us.

Passing the time is a challenge. I love to read. I love to listen to the radio. I'm not and have never been a big fan of TV and this Internet Information Superhighway thing was never my cup of tea.

My boys insisted I get an iPhone. It's an amazing device. Each day I get a little more used to it, but I still like the good ol' days of chatting on a real telephone.

The last visit from my kids, they introduced us to a new app called BabbleStash. They want us to use it to record all our memories of our lives growing up so they can have them. My wife and I take turns answering the questions and it brings back such fond memories that we end up talking more than recording. That's OK. I make sure we get all the key information recorded for the kids so our memories and experiences will live on long after we are gone.

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