Change of Heart

I've always had trouble with change. True to my astrological sign (if I believed in all of that nonsense) I often find myself mired in the past, forever looking over my shoulder at the good old days. Lest you think that my entry into AARPland has precipitated this sense of nostalgia, I can assure you that this is nothing new. From moving to breaking up, getting a new job to working with a new computer, I've never been all that crazy about shaking up my life.

I know there are people who thrive on this sort of thing, who welcome each challenge to their daily routine with open arms and a sense of adventure. To them I say, oh wait, I can't say that. Maybe I should just say, 'Congratulations' or, better yet, 'How the hell do you do it?'

I'd like to say that this rumination on dealing with life's changes was brought about by my current situation - letting go of my kids and moving on with part two of my adult life - but it was really provoked by something much more trivial. I just found out that my favorite pizza place is closing.

I know, I know. People are losing jobs, families are being forced out of their houses. The loss of a neighborhood pizza joint should be way down on the totem pole of life's problems. And it is. But you've got to understand. This was my go-to place whenever life got the better of me. This was the comfort food that could make it all better for the time it took to eat four or five slices. This was the place that my entire family had gathered for thirty years. Through the decades, we hoisted a variety of glasses while enjoying the tastiest pizza this side of Italy. We solved a lot of problems seated at those dark, laminated tables. We celebrated a lot of birthdays and victorious baseball games sitting on those rock-hard wooden benches.

Maybe that's why this change is going to be so tough. We not only need to find another place that makes phenomenal thin crust pizza, a difficult task in itself. We need to find another place to make some more great family memories.