Nearly a year ago, I picked up my dad, who was 87 at the time, and brought him home to Louisiana where he had lived all his life before he moved to a 'retirement home' in another state four years previously. It was possible for me, a divorcee with grown children, to move from Texas to do this. He and I now live together in a rental home. He can have his gumbo and boudin when he wishes, and has final say over the options in his life.

I haven't written about this because it is just him and I here (and a stream of invaluable caregivers). Blogging about the one person who is sharing your home life can be risky for a relationship! But though there are some concerns about our living situation, I have no regrets about the decision to be with Dad at this time. The evening mealtime we share daily now is something I hold dear. Sometimes we step out of the usual flow of our lives to partake in an opportunity to live in the slow lane, to see and experience what we flew by in the past, to learn the stuff life is made of, to know the full cycle of love.