You Won't Get This Time Back

My eyes popped open and I saw the time. Rather than play the game of "How long can I stay in bed and still get out the door in time?", the words "You won't get this half hour back!" spoke to me. I hopped out of bed and was grateful I hadn't frittered away that precious time.

The very next day, I couldn't sit still without falling asleep because I had been playing the game of "You won't get this half hour back!" for a bit too long and exhaustion ruled the day.

What is most important? The rest one gains by sleeping in? The extra solitude that half hour provides? What one can accomplish with that extra time? Or is sleeping simply a coping mechanism?

I have had far too many days when I didn't want to wake up to another day. The days that are challenging to walk through are days I'd rather stay in bed.

So many of my days were just like after "The Year of Mom". After Mom died and all that was pertaining to wrapping up her life, her home and estate was done, I wandered aimlessly through my days for a very (very) long time.

The first year was tough. Something clicked within that second year without Mom. Life had moved on without her. My thoughts weren't consumed with her. I felt lighter.

Even after the heaviness of the prior year started to lighten, I wasn't back to my old self. Living for the weekends became my goal. What did I do with my weekends? As little as humanly possible. "This isn't living" were the words that haunted my thoughts. These were some of the very last words Mom spoke ...

It has taken far longer than I would have predicted but I think I'm back. Back to where, I'm not certain. But I'm back to a better place.

Home renovations have been a game changer. It changed my focal point and forced me to get things done. Even though other people did 99% of the work around here, I still had to clear out spaces, clean up the work-in-progress and reorganize those spaces when the job was done. Then came that feeling of "Ahhh ... let's just sit back and appreciate at all that has been done."

Mom's home was her castle. She put a lot of her energy into putting her visions into reality. The projects became smaller as the years went on but as long as she had dreams, she had life.

One time in particular, we were concerned about Mom living on her own after a health scare. She didn't even waste her time and energy fighting us. She simply said she had some leftover paint, she was pretty sure it would be enough to paint the bathroom and she asked (suggested?) that my sister could do that for her. "She's not moving." We knew.

One of her last renovations was one she had thought about for a long time. Turning the divider in the living room into a bookcase. Mom loved her books. She had an insatiable quest for knowledge and constantly challenged her memory by reciting poems, songs and quotes from her childhood readers. She found several of those readers over the course of time. The last time I spent with her, those readers were her reading material of choice.

Mom's bookcase was one of her last and most appreciated renovations. Well, that and her sun room of course. I will forever think of Mom with a book at her side, enjoying her sun room ...

When it came time to sort through and divide Mom's belongings, she had written a list of the rooms in her home, with one of our names beside each room. The sun room had my name on it. I also ended up with her library. When I started thinking renovation thoughts, the driving force behind it all was to turn "Mom's Room" (the room she slept in when she came here) into a "Sunny Room". A room filled with natural light, which would house and display her books. My dream has yet to come to fruition.

Of all the renovating that has been done, Mom's library has been left to the last. Her books are stored in the laundry room, waiting for their new home. The room designated as "Mom's Room" has lost its identity. We call it a den. I keep the door closed so the cats don't wreck Mom's love seat and shed all over it.

I sat in Mom's room on the weekend. I was in a state of exhaustion and my thoughts were too scattered to appreciate the view. I want to create an oasis within our home in a manner that fills me the way Mom's sun room and library fulfilled and energized her. For Mom, it was books and reading. For me, it is writing. I believe the key to good writing is to fill yourself up with knowledge, different perspective and new ideas. Mom's books are a source "all of the above".

The tides are turning. I have been hopping out of bed with the words "You won't get this time back" whispering through my subconsciousness. I know I must do more than I have been doing. Living a life with purpose is key to living a good life.

It has been a purposeful time around here lately. With great purpose came great spending. I feel my primary purpose for the short term is to repay the debt I have accumulated this past month. According to my calculations, if all goes as planned (and it won't), I should be in the clear by May, 2020.

No matter where things go from here, living by the simple credo "You won't get this time back" must guide me to where I need to go. Yes, some of that time must be spent in a restorative and restful manner. What I have noticed lately is the energy I do have on hand after my most primal need for rest, solitude and restoration have been satiated. There is life after 7:00 p.m.

It is time to move on and through and into whatever comes next. I just hope whatever is next doesn't have a price tag attached. I'm just a little overextended. Perhaps that is why I prefer to just stay in bed. It's a pretty cheap hobby.