Not sure if the journaling is legible, so I've included it here.

During my working life, I would occasionally muse aloud about moving back to Kansas. I think it was just something to dream about and I did not give it serious thought until I retired. I’d had a rough couple of years and was looking forward to a few months of visiting friends, catching up on reading & crafts, and generally “vegging” out. I failed to account for my husband’s way of making quick decisions and acting upon them without hesitation.
I retired on April first and thought it was a particularly apt date! We lived in Washington state at the time. By the 31st of August (my Dad’s birthday), we were signing the papers on a home in Kansas! The moving van arrived a couple of days later and by the end of September we were settled in. As settled as I could be after those six months of whirlwind activity, anyway!
Six months later, my Dad fell and broke his hip. He was in hospital for several weeks, and then went into a nursing care facility. For the next two years, he would be in and out of both the hospital and nursing care. He hated it! He became very demanding and wanted me to be there all the time. I had a 50-mile drive every time he wanted to see me. I am not an only child and frequently groused about his insistence on me being the one to take charge.
Nine years have gone by since he passed. Looking back I am so grateful that I had the time to spend with him and Mamma. I had the opportunity to get to know them as individuals aside from being my parents and I grew to love them both so much more. My Dad had a quirky sense of humor and gorgeous brown eyes – both of which I inherited. If we had stayed in Washington things would have been different. I would not have been able to spend time with them, perhaps not even in the last days.
Hindsight is 20/20. I stressed and complained (and cried) at the time, but those were precious moments and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world!