Downsizing: Talking Dad into Selling the Family Home

There she is! Coffee's on, and I made your favorite muffins.

Thanks, Dad. Um, there's something I've been meaning to bring up.

That sounds ominous. Should I be sitting down for this?

Oh, come on, you're already sitting down. That's a good start.

Well... it's about the house. And the stairs, mainly.

Ugh. This is about my little tumble last month, isn't it?

A little tumble? Dad, you were on the floor for an hour!

If Mrs. Patel hadn't dropped by, who knows what would've happened?

I appreciate the concern, but I'm hardly an invalid.

I've climbed those stairs every single day for forty years.

I know, and nobody's saying you can't look after yourself.

It's just that this place is a lot to keep on top of.

Your mother planted those roses the summer we moved in.

Every corner of this place has a story attached to it.

Oh, Dad. I miss her too... more than I let on.

But selling the house doesn't mean letting go of her.

Hmm, doesn't it? It certainly feels that way, sweetheart.

So, what if we looked at somewhere smaller, closer to us?

There's a lovely two-bedroom place ten minutes from our house.

Ten minutes? You'd be sick of me within a week!

Ha, probably. But the kids would be over the moon.

And the garage? It's packed to the rafters with forty years of junk.

We'll sort through it together. Ruthlessly, I might add.

Well... I'm not promising anything, you understand.

But I suppose there's no harm in taking a look.

Really? Oh, Dad, that means the world to me!

Now, don't get ahead of yourself. I'm only looking.

Fair enough. Looking is all I'm asking for.

And the roses come with me. That's non-negotiable.

Deal. We'll find you a place with a proper garden.

Good. Your mother would have approved, you know.