Back in the day, “Uncle” Kay was famous in my circles for a particularly salient quote he regularly uttered to end phone calls with me. This quote, ‘Nothing stays the same except rocks,’ was his way of acknowledging the inevitability of change —a philosophy that he applied to every shift in company policy and market fluctuations.
We aren’t blood relatives. Kay was one of my direct reports, opening and managing a successful office in Sioux Falls for many years as we built a world-class (in our opinion) logistics company. The honorific “Uncle” was a sign of my respect for him, both because he was my senior in age and he was a management genius. He was never afraid to challenge me, and often did, asking hard questions until he understood the decision and accepted it with a sigh, saying, “Nothing stays the same except rocks.” Those questions made me a better manager.
In our lives, significant changes are a constant.
The Bohunk and I are experiencing some changes right now. We’re leaving Cook County and moving to Duluth this month. Not always considered as stressful as death or divorce, moving is often ranked as one of the most highly stressful life events. It presents challenges, testing communication, patience, and the ability to support one another through a time of disruption. Lucky for us, we’ve done a fair number of moves over the years.
In 2016, our 62nd year, we were living in Swansea, IL, and debating whether to start collecting on the six-figure Social Security accounts we had paid in over the years. I sat reading a newspaper one day that winter, and the Bohunk was busy in the kitchen. I heard her say, “I want to move back to the North Shore when we retire.” So I asked, “Okay, but where am I going to go?” She assured me that I was welcome to go along.
At the time, I was gainfully employed as an independent consultant. Retirement was something I’d done a few times by then, and I welcomed the chance to do it again. A death in the family and daughter Angie’s decision to move back to Lutsen expedited our return to the North Shore.
Like now, affordable housing was scarce in Cook County in 2016. After talking with a few realtors and arguing with the Bohunk about condos or townhomes, I checked Craigslist that fall and found a house in Colvill. Angie visited it to make a video for her mom, who declared it exactly what she had in mind for a North Shore home.
The sellers were retired realtors at the time, and friends when we lived here in the 90s. Kismet brought us together, and we decided that this place would be our last move.
So why now, after almost ten years, are we making another “last move”? Because nothing stays the same except rocks. The decision we made ten years ago no longer serves our needs and wants.
This move has been in process for over a year, driven by several factors.
First, we’re in our 70s now. Failing hearing, eyesight, and memory take a toll.
Handling and burning six or seven cords of firewood makes long winters seem longer. Ongoing maintenance and repair of an old house and 11 acres of woods present financial challenges we’d rather avoid. Not to mention ever-increasing property taxes.
Our Swedish Death Cleaning means we have far less need for storage in our next house.
We found a willing buyer for the Colvill property, and in a hassle-free transaction, we conveyed our interest to our son, Dan. He graciously allowed us to stay on after the closing until we’d found the next place and were ready to move.
We’ve bought a mobile home on the western edge of Duluth. Our housing adventure, which began over 50 years ago, started with a trailer in Apple Valley, located next to what would become the Minnesota Zoo. Going full circle, our next home is also a trailer. Once trailer trash, always trailer trash.
So with less storage space and no stairs, we’ll be living comfortably with our dogs and cat in the big city. Our neighbors are closer than here on the ridge, but we have more space to breathe than we’d have with a condo, townhouse, or senior living center.
The big benefit for me, and I hope for you, is that Christine, my corporate overlord here at the Northshore Journal, is letting me continue writing stories and The Long Way Home for the best weekly newspaper in Minnesota.
Based on the happenings in the world these days, I’m adding a bit to Uncle Kay’s mantra: “Nothing stays the same except rocks, the cruelty of our species, and the inhumanity of humanity.”
