Uprooting Trees

I've thought a few times over the past days that moving dad is not unlike uprooting a 70 year old tree. All the cliches about setting in, putting down roots, are true. Over time property and other assets are acquired. As well, when you're retired, you collect pensions from the government. Trying to get this things closed up/transferred/settled for tax purposes feels almost impossible... like uprooting an old tree. (Impossible, but doable, if it takes every last ounce of oomph out of me.) I could feel the cartoon bubbles of "Doh" over my head as I listened to the accountant explain profit/loss statements required for this tax season, and further profit and loss statements required by Revenue Canada on all assets for the day that you leave Canada. Really? All I want to be doing is shopping for shoes. (Which may be why I find myself in this situation anyway.... you can only stick your head in the sand for so long before you need to come up for air and face reality!)

Not more than once I've considered leaving dad here and going to Australia on my own, the thought of moving him being too overwhemling. That thought is too depressing. I don't want him sitting in a care home here, with all his family there. I certainly don't want to stay here with him in a care home. It will be just me visiting him, and holidays will just be the two of us. I can't think of anything more depressing. No... I want to get him over there if it takes every ounce of my being. He'll be close to his family again, and he can sit outside in the sunshine, listening to the sound of the Australian birds singing... something he loves very much.

Moving myself would be so simple... throw some stuff in a suitcase, bin some crusty, old furniture (oh yes, vintage Ikea, it's not pretty in it's old age), shipping some cookbooks and photo albums (ok, maybe 50 boxes of albums!) and we're good to go. Get to Australia and get some work... I've dual Canadian/Australian citizenship with a tax file number... so can get to work right away. However, I must settle dad in over there first. I've not touched in that yet, as there's a mound of work to do here. The list just keeps getting longer and longer. I definitely feel like Santa Claus... making a list and checking it twice. I vow to prove that 70 year old trees can be uprooted, and transplated, and most of all... thrive!