Every time I make the hour-long 60-mile drive to Savannah, sometimes two or three times each week, I decide that I will move to the city, closer to the three sweet young lives who mean the world to me. That will put me, in my second year of retirement, closer to the daughter who will be my caretaker as years pass. To be truthful, I would not do anything major in my life without asking her, because she is smart about people, money, and relationships. It's taken me two years to take a step toward that decision. I've owned three homes, two with my husband, and this last one on my own. Homes one and two came with some extraordinary problems that my husband, strong and knowledgeable about construction, could solve; home three was brand-new and move-in ready. In the eleven years I've lived in this tidy little home, only twice have I had to get help: once, a plumber, and once, a company that cleaned up air-conditioner damage. The costs were manageable and the inconvenience relat...