J. and M. on our terrace in Montreal's Plateau Mont-Royal, in 2012.
We're moving. That little statement could mean all sorts of things. But the French word déménagement is so specific, and in this case it means we're moving house. To faire le menage is to do the housework; the word ménagement, without the "dé", means "care and attention". My dictionary tells me that to speak sans ménagement is "bluntly", to be asked to leave sans ménagement mean "forcibly evicted." I like the way the word déménagement reflects the accumulation of care and attention put into one's home over the years, that one doesn't simply pack objects and oneself and move, shift locations, but that when we leave our home, hopefully for another, we also wrap up our memories and our time spent in a place that was not simply an address, but a home.
Tonight is the last we'll spend in the condominium where we've lived ever since coming to Montreal. It is one apartment of ten in our building, which, as co-propriétaires, we all own and care for together. I've been one of the people responsible for the gardens, while J. has had a much larger role as treasurer and a member of the CA, or conseil d'administration, the executive committee that's in charge of maintenance, repairs, hiring and managing helpers, and assuring the smooth running of the building. It's been a great place to live for the past 18 years (how can it possibly be that long?) and we're sorry to be leaving this neighborhood, the park, and especially our neighbors who've become good friends. However, the pandemic showed us that this small apartment simply doesn't work for us as a place to live and work as well. When we were going to our studio every day, it was fine, but during COVID, and since cutting back on our professional work, we haven't been using the studio very much, while, at the same time, the rent there has been going up astronomically under new owners. We looked and looked in this part of the city but couldn't find any good or affordable solution for a larger, brighter, recently-built space that would serve as both living and work space, and also be an appropriate place for us as we grow older, with room for help if we ever need it, proximity to our medical providers, easy access to the international food shopping we enjoy, and some additional amenities. Neither of us wants to be responsible for an aging building at the same time as we, ourselves, age.
Tonight.
To our surprise, we found a recently-developed area close to some of the food shopping -- Middle Eastern, Asian, Greek -- that takes us across the city every couple of weeks. At first we couldn't imagine living there -- so little green space, none of the genteel French atmosphere of the area where we live now, but rather a mix of large, professionally-managed residential high-rises and industrial areas and gradually-developing retail infrastructure -- but when we actually visited the buildings and saw some apartments, which offered so much more for the price than in the more traditional neighborhoods of the city, we began to consider it. In the end, we bought a condominium on the 11th floor of a 12-storey building built in 2018. We've both always had it in the backs of our minds that we might like to live in a modern, light-filled urban space, high up -- I think this realization came after some of the apartments we stayed in in Mexico City and Athens. I'm still kind of shocked that we're actually doing it, but the papers have been signed, we have the keys, the boxes are packed and the bed-frame taken apart -- and tomorrow at 8 the movers arrive. We will close our studio when the lease runs out in the fall, or perhaps before then, since we've packed up or sold quite a lot of what was there. We've gotten rid of a lot of possessions, including books and clothes, in this second major downsizing of our adult lives, and that feels great. In our new space we'll each have a workroom/studio of our own, and I look forward to this very much, and to whatever comes out of the solitude and new inspiration of the big skies we'll see every day.
At the same time as we've been preparing for the move, I've been deeply concerned about my father, and, as I've written here, we made three lengthy trips to central New York to be with him under the rapidly-changing circumstances of his health; he was first with us, then in assisted-living, then hospitalized with pneumonia, then in a grim rehabilitation/nursing facility from which I've been desperately trying to extricate him. This week our application was accepted, and he has moved into one of the excellent New York State Veterans' Homes, where they are glad to begin to know him and care for him as a veteran of WWII. In spite of our personal changes and exciting new beginnings in Montreal, part of me is there, back at the lake, wanting to spend time with my father during this uncertain final part of his life -- so we will find ways to work that out.
