This is It

My last day living life-as-I-know-it has arrived. July 15th marked the 30 year anniversary of living in this home. January 1st, thirty six years ago we moved to this province. This city.

I moved here with my 9 year old and 4 month old children. They grew up, moved out and moved on. I gained a third child. She grew up, stayed home and I'm moving on. 

June 13, 2023 I wrote this:

"After much consideration, I have decided to retire and I am writing to tender my resignation...my last day of work will be June 30, 2024".

July 1st, I formally handed it all over. Done, complete, balanced, organized and relinquished in a manner I would hope for, if someone had worked for me. Done.

July 2nd to 28th has been a whirlwind of packing up, working in my new town, cleaning up and tying up loose ends. Today, I will relinquish this life in a manner I would hope for if someone was handing it over to me. Done. Almost.

There is a fridge to empty and clean. The car is packed and almost ready to go. The empty spots will very likely be filled to the gills with miscellaneous items, with only room for me in the car.

Just me.

Wow. This feels different than I thought it would. 

It will be a whole new world once I settle into regular, everyday life in my new home and town. I am beyond grateful I have found gainful employment that will sustain and nourish me. Literally and figuratively.

When I handed in my notice a year ago, I wistfully hoped I would be able to work a little on the side and do what they call "retire". I am now reframing retirement as "retiring from one job into my next".

New age retirement = continuing to work, but finding a more comfortable fit.

The fit feels wonderful. 

Now comes the next challenge. Living without dependents. Alone at last. 

Alone. But not lonely. That is the goal.

My final writing spot within this house I called home for thirty years...

Filling the Void (Living Life Forward)

I found myself thinking of Mom this morning. "I miss missing her ..." I wrote. As I continued to let my fingers do the walking, I found an inner contentment which has filled the void that was created since Mom died.

While Mom was here, I wrote her a weekly letter. She phoned me in response to my letters. If I was not home, she would wonder where I was and if she had to wait too long before I responded there was a sense of urgency within her voice. She knew my routines and would concern herself when I wasn't where she expected me to be. My holidays would revolve around going out to see Mom. Our sister weekends would often involve going to Mom's.

Mom has been a strong guiding force within my life. I listened to myself repeat what she had said often over the course of my life as I lived it and I wistfully thought of the day when I would be quoting her after she was gone. I was pleased to recognize I appreciated who she was to me while she was here on earth.

After Mom died and the immediate needs of taking care of her house, estate and tying up all loose ends with the lawyer, accountant and our taxation department were done, there was a distinct void in my life that was once filled with "Mom".

The void created the space for me to feel all the feelings I had been tamping down with busyness. It was a time when tears appeared out of nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. It was a time of sadness but it was necessary.

Life doesn't stand still for anyone. The sun continues to rise each and every day, seasons pass, bills need to be paid and life goes on (and on and on). Life dragged me along as I dragged my heals through that first year. It didn't matter. The sun rose. The sun set. Life called out its demands. I had no choice but to move along with the flow.

Fast forward another year. I stopped bucking the idea of moving on. I started making a few plans. I dared to dream a little. I placed my dreams and my final financial gift from Mom into our home. Home renovations began, my thoughts were consumed with all aspects of that. Bit by bit, the void created by Mom's absence began to fill up.

I continue to think of Mom, what she may say or think, I quote what I remember from Mom's vast array of quotable quotes and smile when I think of some of our conversations. She continues to guide my thoughts, actions and motives. She is part of who I am. It is undeniable. Sometimes I must quiet my inner-Margaret but most of the time, I just smile when I get a flash of her expression or hear the scorn in her voice over some inane use of the English language.

The cracks of my life have been filled up with living my life forward. As I think of the past year, it is "full". Full of home renovations, family, plays, Glennon Doyle, Cher, Oprah, friends, getaways, gatherings and celebrations. It was a year which was filled with doing things that filled me up and filled the void left in Mom's absence.

It feels good to feel fulfilled again. I do miss missing Mom but it is more important to go with the flow of life and live it fully while one is able to do so. I still feel Mom's guiding force and I hear Dad within my thoughts too. Between the two of them, they gave me the tools, my siblings, a strong sense of who I am and who I aspire to be.

Life goes on. We carry bits and pieces of everyone we meet as we make our way along. I am grateful to have thoughts of Mom and Dad within me. It is my hope to live my life in a way that would please and honor them.

Belonging

As I walk into the worlds of my two senior friends, I am now greeted by those whose path I cross as I make my way into the day.

Warm smiles and friendly greetings have evolved into brief conversations which let me know they know who I "belong" to.

I remember well, the way I felt after Mom died. Mom had been my primary focus for a while and I felt lost at sea without her. I wandered through my days without a purpose. Wise people within my world reminded me of the others who were coming to rely on my presence.

It wasn't the same. Running out to Mom's became my norm. I gained as much as I gave throughout those visits. No matter how Mom was feeling (and she put on a very brave front), she was still "Mom" to me. I relaxed in my role of daughter and simply helped out wherever I could when I was with her.

I got to go home, sleep in my old room, wake up to toast and coffee with Mom and simply feel all the creature comforts of being home.

They say you can't go home again but there certainly was a feeling of homecoming throughout those many trips to Mom's.

Now I can literally not go home again. It is okay. We are moving on and through this phase in a way that honors what we once had but recognizes the need to move forward.

Two years ago, unbeknownst to us at the time, we were walking through our final weeks with Mom. Our sibling connection was strong and united. We "team tagged" our way through. We each had our individual strengths and I believe we were all relieved to know we had each other's backs.

Last fall, we took a sister road trip to meet up with our brother for a brief weekend visit. We rented a condo and created a home away from Mom's. A place where we could simply sit back, relax and visit like we had at Mom's only one year prior.

This year, we have reserved another pseudo-home away from home. This one is close to Mom's neighborhood and her old stomping grounds. We shall simply do what we did last year except we have an extra day and we could actually walk to Mom's from where we will be staying.

I was lost but now I am found.

I felt lost after Mom died but I have found my way to a new normal and a new place within this world of ours where I belong.

It is small but it is huge. It is a gift but it comes with the price of knowing nothing lasts forever. I belong but I have lost the title of "daughter" no matter who in the world mothers me. I am grateful to hold tight to my title "sister" ...

I cannot imagine how Mom must have felt when she was the only surviving child of her parents. Even though she was the mother of four; grandmother of fourteen; and great grandmother of twenty three ... she was the sole survivor of those who shared those memories from their childhood home.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of being with people with whom you share a history. The knowing looks, the inside jokes, things that don't even have to be said but if they are, no elaboration is necessary. There is a sense of "knowing" that goes beyond words.

When we have this, we are rich. This feeling of familiarity, of belonging, of being part of a whole ... it is a gift money can't buy. Perhaps this is why I continue to seek out ways to "belong" within this world of ours.

Maybe this is why the Hawaiian word "Ohana" speaks to me. "The word 'ohana' means family in the Hawaiian language, but in a much wider sense, to include not only one's closer relatives, but also one's cousins, in-laws, friends, race, and other neighbours." ~ https://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ohana

This feeling of connection and belonging is so much more than blood ties that bond us. It is the connection we make with those who feel like family to us.

I truly believe we all seek that sense of "belonging". Where we look for that connection is as individual to each one of us. Look for the connections within your life. Honor them. Nurture them. Find comfort within that which grounds you. Whether it is family, friendship, pets, nature or simply within yourself. Seek out that which makes you feel part of a whole and nurture that part within yourself.

I shall end this with words from Maya Angelou on belonging:

“You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all.” ~ Maya Angelou, Conversations with Maya Angelou

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.

We Had to Get Away

I have spent the past week immersed in Jeannette Walls' books (The Glass Castle and Half Broke Horses). I soaked up every word and watched numerous interviews with her on YouTube, yet I couldn't succinctly describe what it felt like to be wrapped up in her books until I came upon this quote:

“Mom, you have to leave Dad,” I said. 

She stopped doing her toe touches. “I can’t believe you would say that,” she said. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would turn on your father.” 

I was Dad’s last defender, she continued, the only one who pretended to believe all his excuses and tales, and to have faith in his plans for the future. “He loves you so much,” Mom said. “How can you do this to him?” 

“I don’t blame Dad,” I said. And I didn’t. But Dad seemed hell-bent on destroying himself, and I was afraid he was going to pull us all down with him. “We’ve got to get away.” 
― Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle

I thoroughly enjoyed Jeannette's writing style and couldn't put my finger on the "why" of it until one interviewer marvelled at the fact that she retold her story without anger or resentment towards her father who was an alcoholic which led to a nomadic and unstable upbringing.

I walked away from a partner who encapsulated some of the personality traits of Rex Walls (Jeannette's father). As I drove my young family away from the cycle of the life that kept drawing me back time and time again, there was a knowing deep inside of me that we had to get away. Plain and simple. I was afraid he was going to pull us all down with him.

In one of her interviews, Jeannette Walls says everyone should write their own memoir. Not everyone should publish their memoir but everyone should write the story of their life. I began to wonder what I may come up with, if I was to unearth my memories.

My childhood was idyllic and in no way prepared me for my marriage. I question why I made some of the choices I did at the time but I do remember well the low self image I had of myself. That is quite likely at the crux of things.

I fell for a boy (I was 16; he was 18 when we met and we married one year later) who loved me out loud. I led a very safe life. He lived on the edge. I followed rules to the letter. He defied them. I grew up in a home where affection was not displayed openly. He held my hand. He hugged me. I felt unloveable. He loved me.

And the rest is history.

Our marriage was a roller coaster ride of the best of times and the worst of times. Our fights were loud and destructive. We brought out the best and the worst in each other. I can't think of a time in my life where I look back and criticize my actions as harshly as I do during our marriage. Yet ... the good times made up for everything.

Our marriage was so far from my normal that I didn't even want to be around my family. I couldn't be a part of something that felt so foreign to me. Yet when we separated for the last time I ran straight into the heart of everything that has grounded me. I moved back "home", nestled in among family I didn't know yet. It was the beginning of a time of good decision making for me.

I had to leave him. It was the only right answer. For me. For my children. For our future.

I look back on my previous life and while I remember our reality quite well, I choose to focus on the heart of a man who wanted to be so much more.

I believe I saw the best he had to give. His heart started out in the right place but too often, his intentions got lost somewhere in between his heart and his actions. But there were times when his actions reflected his intentions. It was the best of times ...

“I don’t blame him. But he seemed hell-bent on destroying himself, and I was afraid he was going to pull us all down with him. We had to get away.” 

Restoring Order

There was a time when I felt I had everything under control. I had a housekeeping routine, I discarded/donated and culled the excess within our home regularly. I cooked, I cleaned and ran a pretty smooth ship around here. Our home was a calm and relaxing world.

Then came the year "2008". It was a year of great change. It was the year after the breakup of who I thought was my "until death do us part" partner.

The years whirl by me after that point. From a manic state of over-drive, to the assembling family histories, to closing my daycare so I could pursue an education, to a few jobs which were my undoing. Which led to the reopening of my daycare.

My energy level never did recover from that time of great change.

I acted and reacted to life. There was much to do, much to be grateful for but that feeling of having everything within our home manageable and under control was lost.

Fast forward to 2019.

It all started with an easy "yes" to replacing the flooring on our entire main floor. Followed by another easy "yes" to start renovating our kitchen. Then hiring a painter ...

The need to shake up our little world has been just what I needed to find my DESIRE to recreate the order I have been missing within these four walls of ours.

I open drawers and want to empty, cull and organize them. As I emptied the top floor into our basement, it was methodical, well thought out, with the idea that "only that which brings me joy" will come back upstairs again.

Our three upstairs bedrooms which have lost their identity will find themselves again throughout this renovation project.

Only that which brings joy will come back upstairs. Only that which brings joy ...

Restoring order is restoring my joy. That is just how I'm wired. I get a small thrill by opening a drawer where everything has a place, is in its place and is hanging out with other items of a similar nature.

I have been lost but now I'm finding my way back home. It's been a long and winding road since I started losing my way. It feels good to be back!

The Planets Have Aligned

I have set the wheels in motion. I am starting a new project. I'm calling it Home and Life Renovation - Phase I

I have ordered flooring for the entire main floor of our home. My Wise Son advised me that while the rooms were already empty, this would be a perfect time to paint. And change the baseboards. And door mouldings. And ... I cannot even begin to fathom where this story will end.

What I DO see, is a vision of turning what was once a daycare home into a warm and inviting family home again. It is still a home with cats so furnishings will remain until said felines no longer shed hair on this earth.

I can VISUALIZE a space where I can sit, be still and feel the contentment that comes from having our home reflect the life I am presently living.

I foresee a time where I start inviting life back into our home. My fortress of solitude will become a space I WANT to share.

I can FEEL the energy starting to resurface. I have a plan. I will move forward from here. I must move forward from this point. I am committed to this plan.

I know this will feel overwhelming. I know I will be frustrated with time and energy limitations. I know this is the biggest renovation project I have undertaken to date.

I also know ... I am not alone. My son has offered his assistance. He not only has a full time job and is taking on two on-line courses but he lives an hour away and has his own home, relationship and herd of cats to tend.

I am beyond fortunate to not only have his offer of assistance but his gentle nudge, opinion and nod of approval as needed. I will not abuse this gift.

The planets are literally aligning and saying "This is a magical chapter so use this cosmic flow ..."

Photo/quote credit to: Alex Myles

"Dream big & know - the Universe is supporting you." Who am I to argue with that logic?

If I build it ... (I'm living in my Field of Dreams again)

One Step at a Time

It started with a ticking fridge. The ticking made me think of a bomb counting down. How long would it tick until the fridge quit altogether?

I took a risk and believed it would be good for one more week. I booked a service call for this afternoon (one week after the initial phone call). I didn't want the service person to think I was a slob so I did "one hard thing" before 8 am. I pulled out the fridge and cleaned behind and under it.

Our fridge has been leaking something green for quite some time now. The fridge just kept on working, so I ignored the green dye which was infiltrating the floor and baseboard behind the fridge. But this morning, all I could think of was the new flooring which I have been dreaming about.

I don't want a new floor to be stained so I dropped into our friendly, neighborhood used appliance store and bought a new-to-me fridge to replace our present day green-oozing-ticking fridge time bomb. It should be delivered any time now ...

Add the flooring guy into the mix. He was scheduled to drop by to measure the house this afternoon. I had all but cancelled the idea until this morning. This morning, I knew without a doubt that I want to get new flooring in the kitchen. NO doubt about it. This flooring has seen better days and this IS a room I could define a definite "start" and "stop" point.

So ... my flooring guy is en route as well.

ONE step at a time. FIRST, replace the fridge. SECOND, decide on the flooring.

One room? Or the entire main floor? Who knows where this saga will end.

A Fresh New Page

As much as I think the New Year is a non-event for me, I must admit it felt rather cathartic to file away 2018 and flip the brand new calendar into the year 2019.

I struggled through some of 2018. I went on a few "fly away" vacations. I stepped out of my solitude, I worked, I played and had some fun. 

I have stepped into My Next Chapter Without a Map. I have few guidelines to follow other than a loosely thrown together list of intentions for the months as they unfold:

#1 - Next year, I am going to book two weeks of holidays over Christmas. I am not quite ready to return to life as I know it. I am JUST starting to feel a renewal of energy and wish I had more days at my disposal to start acting upon that which is starting to stir within.

#2 - START the process of decluttering with my own belongings. Mom's room, Mom's memorabilia and all the sentimental stuff has been stopping me in my tracks. I can still begin. I will just start where it is easiest. With MY stuff.

#3 - Slow and steady wins the race. As I sit here after ten full days of simply breathing, eating and following the easiest path, I feel "a list" formulating in my mind. The list of "I should's" are daunting. There is so much to do that I don't have the energy to do a thing. One. Small. Step. At. A. Time. Add ONE new habit. Live it. Breathe it. Incorporate it into my day. Once it becomes second nature, add a second life affirming action into my day.

#4 - Buy better groceries. Having good-for-us and easy to assemble food in the kitchen is one habit I want to add into our life. This is easier said while not living my regularly scheduled life. I will do my best. I will try.

#5 - Write. Just write. Whether I write in a journal, send off a note or an email or blog. I want to return to a world where my heart to fingertip connection is reignited.

I write this list of things-to-do and already I feel like I am biting off more than I can chew. ONE small step at a time. 

I feel the angst of having to step back into my daily work world. This holiday has been just what I needed. A lot of quiet. No pressure. A life where I wake up, open the curtains and greet the day before me with a little bit of joy.

How can I do this while working? 

Perhaps I need to add ...

#6 - When I wake up in the morning, GET up. No turning on the TV. No lulling myself back to sleep with my Netflix addiction of the moment. WAKE up. GET up. CREATE the time I need by being wakeful during the early morning hours. Be PRESENT. Do not sleep through my down time. 

2019 will be a year where I strive to live each day with INTENTION. I may intend to have a relaxing day. I may intend to have a day focused on living outside this cozy little oasis. I may intend to accomplish ONE hard thing. I simply need to set my intentions before I put my feet on the ground. 

ONE hard thing at a time. ONE hour at a time. Perhaps that ONE hour could be devoted to my word puzzle addiction. Do some of the hard things. Add joy. Fulfill my own needs. Find a balance. Expect that balance to change. 

I feel like I walked through 2018 in my sleep. It was not an INTENTIONAL year. It simply unfolded. That is okay. It is what I needed.

But it is time for a change. ONE small step at a time.

Moving On (but I miss missing you)

I've said it before and I'll say it again (and quite likely again and again and again), I feel like I'm getting a grasp on life as I now know it.

Our extended winter mirrored my mood. I wanted to do nothing more than hunker down in survival mode throughout those dark, cold and windy days. The weather obliged.

The state of being alone is nourishing on one hand but it depletes a person on the other.

I have come out the other side of winter realizing I am grateful I had my regularly scheduled life (work outside of my home) pulling and tugging at me, even when it felt like it brought me to my knees at times.

I have listened to my inner chatter evolve from "You can do this"; "You can do hard things"; and "Only twelve hours to endure before I can crawl back into my pajamas"... to a far less desperate cry for help from within, as I lock the door behind me each morning.

The inner chatter within my head is becoming healthier. I still want to be home but my heart doesn't ache at the idea of walking out the door. I still live to sleep but I feel more wakeful within the hours my eyes are open. I still want to numb myself with food, surfing the Internet and sleep but I have tempered all of the above a little.

Baby steps. One day at a time. Quiet moments within busy days. Contact with people. It is all coming together. It's going to be okay.

I write this after going to bed at 8:30 last night. Exhaustion still settles in and overtakes me. But it is getting easier to crawl out of bed in the morning. The ache in my heart is subsiding ...

I remember the stage of starting to move past the extreme grief of losing our cat (Andre). I wrote this thirteen days after he died:

"I walked around "the week after" with a quiet emptiness. It was a sad place but at the same time, it was such an honor to hold onto that ache because it kept my memories and feelings close to my heart.

Life has taken over this week and carried on.

I still miss our little black cat but I know his time on earth was so uncomfortable it was time to let him go.

I miss mourning him. That sad, soulful feeling and the quiet ache in my heart filled the void he left.

We will forever remember you, Andre. I miss missing you so much."

It has been 33 weeks since Mom died. I could replace "the week after" with "the months after"; substitute Mom's name with Andre's ... and the words I wrote describing the process of moving out of the more acute side of grief and into the phase of a quiet acceptance, life moving on and the stage of "I miss missing you so much" describes a little of how I feel in this moment.

The mathematician in me is trying to calculate a formula for grief. Andre was 15 years old when he died. The state of acute grief lasted 2 weeks. 2 weeks divided by 780 weeks equals .... and my mind goes off into a silent wondering if there is any way of calculating the severity of grief for someone I've known and literally been a part of their being since before I was born.

There is no math in the world which can calculate the answers I seek. The honest truth is that I do not want to ever completely "get over" the loss of either Mom or Dad. Dad's death has taught me that one year melts into the next and emotions can overwhelm a person when you least expect them in a completely out of the blue moment in time.

There are times when I have felt Dad close to me. Those times seemed to happen as I was driving to work on a Saturday morning. Other times, on the highway between our home and Mom's. Or shovelling Mom's snow. Another time, while driving home on an old, familiar gravel road I only travelled with Dad or his brother behind the wheel. It is odd how keenly I can remember those moments. How they stayed with me. How emotion came up and enveloped me.

I think of those who no longer walk this earth and I wonder about the "energy" they leave behind.

When two people find a meeting of the heart, mind and soul and each of them has lost a parent, husband or loved one, could it be possible all of those heavenly presences are looking down upon the moments and smiling on what they see?

When lost humanly souls find a connection of friendship, support and understanding, is it possible their angels above have pulled some strings to help co-ordinate that meeting of the minds? Could they be hoping we find peace and acceptance within the life we have yet to live, just as much as we send them on their way wishing them nothing but a peaceful and pain free exit from our world?

The past week has involved some minor miracles in regards to the dynamics within my own little family. Incidents which have brought us together make me look upward and wonder if some invisible force has been pulling some strings to unite and reunite us in ways Mom has done in the past.

Two weekends ago, my Oldest Son called on me for some assistance. I walked by his side through a non-critical health issue but a serious one, none-the-less. He wasn't alone. I was there with him. And it was good.

Last weekend, my sister-in-law came for a visit and united our little family in her own unique way, yet parallel to the way we used to come together and meet when Mom would stay here. Dare I say it was even better?

My sister-in-law is the aunt to my two oldest and she is the common thread between them. They are planning a joint hiking adventure together this summer which has come with the added benefit of some joint weekend "training sessions". The dynamics of this grouping was nothing short of a gift. My youngest son was immediately taken with my sister-in-law's easy conversational ways and simply said, "I like her! She is so easy to talk with ..."

The last time I walked away from a weekend with my own siblings, my emotions took a nose dive I wasn't prepared for or expecting. "I'm on my own now" was basically the feeling I was left with, as I counted down the months until our next family gathering.

Then the next few weekends unfolded. I am not on my own. I have my own family. They don't need very much of me but we manage to come together in times of need. From the outside, looking in, it would appear that my oldest son needed me. When in truth, I believe it was the other way around. I needed the connection and I looked skyward wondering if Mom could have possibly have had a hand in the way things unfolded.

On one hand, I love this phase of being a parent to my adult children. On the other, there are some isolated patches along the way, because each one of them is building a life independent of me, our home and our family unit. That is the way it should be. And it is good.

My new reality is, that I have a little rebuilding to do on my own. My focus was "Mom" for the past long while. That was good too.

I don't have a burning desire to focus that attention on anything or anyone else at the moment. So I am simply grateful for life unfolding in a way which seems to present me with exactly what I need, when I don't even realize I need it the most.

The acute emptiness of missing Mom is subsiding. Life is moving forward without her in it. It is the only way and it is exactly what Mom would want.

We will forever remember you, Mom. I miss missing you so much.

Finding Solid Ground Again

My head has no idea what my fingers have to say this morning. I'm writing without a map. I've written several letters with this same mindset. Sometimes it is good, other times it is very strange and then there are the times my eyes are surprised to read what oozes out of my finger tips. I have no idea what the next few paragraphs have to bring.

The weekend past, was filled with company, conversation, friendship, family and laughter. And it was good.

After my weekend guest left, I simply soaked up the solitude. I have become such an "island" within this little life of mine. As much as I know I need to push myself out and beyond my comfort zone, returning to this quiet little oasis I call home is where I most want to be.

Conversations got deep. Very deep. It was good. But it was exhausting. I was so overwhelmed, I actually retreated to the world of numbers shortly after I found myself alone within our home.

I believe I am waiting for one last tax slip and I will be ready to take the year "2017" to my accountant and wrap up the year in a once and for all and final way. As much as I will be relieved to wrap up my duties as executor of Mom's will, the whole idea of completing this process and dividing assets doesn't sit well with me.

I sit within our home which is lightly sprinkled with Mom's belongings and it warms my heart and fills my soul.

I have finally started to feel a little of the financial relief that comes by working a full month and not heading out to Mom's on a regular basis. It is amazing how affordable life has become now that I am bringing in a full month's wage, saving on vehicle expenses and sticking close to home.

I have been struggling financially ever since I lost my "equivalent to married" tax status. I have managed on an income far less that what I earned last year but not having a dependent to ease the tax burden has made a tremendous difference.

My financial troubles feel like they could be behind me. Not due to an inheritance. But due to the fact I have a steady income, a little money left at the end of the month, the reinstatement of an "annual expense" savings allotment which is easily included in my monthly budget and the forecast of rather predictable expenditures for the foreseeable future.

I am grateful for this feeling of regaining financial stability before "assets are divided". I need this time. I need to know I am capable of making my own way, without using Mom's money.

The ground beneath my feet feels pretty solid. As good as that sounds, it actually feels a little bit like when I first walked on solid ground after a one week cruise. A person feels a little bit wobbly and disorientated for a while.

Wikipedia describes sea legs as: "Illusion of motion felt on dry land after spending time at sea". This description is very fitting. I have been feeling a little lost at sea. In actual fact, I do feel like I've stopped drifting. I'm standing still and still wavering a little. But I do believe I'm on my way.

Back on solid ground, looking up and feeling the possibilities of life opening up is a little bit like finding a deserted island in the middle of the ocean.

The reinstatement of hope, fear of the unknown is mixed with the anxiety of knowing danger could be lurking around the next corner. This pretty much describes the gamut of thoughts I am thinking and emotions I am feeling at the moment.

I may just linger on the beach for a while...

Better Days

Last week was an emotional one. I broke a few times, shed a few tears and I was weary with the reality of facing the day.

One morning, I wrote a little, cried a little, wiped my tears and forged onward. I hopped in the car to go to work. As I backed out of the garage and headed towards my destination, these were the words my radio sang to me:

"I've been down, I've been down
Burning up like fever
Better days, better days
Are not so far away..."

These lyrics were followed by another song that spoke to my heart. I felt better, I looked up and ahead, then carried on.

I lived a few unremarkable days which were followed by speaking my heart out loud a few times. Speaking my thoughts unleashed another round of tears or two.

My eyes were weary, my heart was tired and I was invited out of my head (and our home) to join a friend for coffee. I wanted to wrap myself up with a warm blanket and peek my head out when spring arrived.

But I persevered. I hopped in the car to meet up with my friend. The radio sang out to me once again:

"I've been down, I've been down
Burning up like fever
Better days, better days
Are not so far away
I've been lost, I've been found
Now I believe in
Better days, better days
Are not so far away"
Hedley - Better Days

This was followed by:

"This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I'm alright song"
Rachel Platten - Fight Song

Yes! I sat up taller, felt a little stronger and my heart felt lighter.

I love when the car radio speaks to me. It doesn't always happen. Sometimes I find myself surfing the channels to find the music my heart needs to hear.

I know it is coincidence. I know it is not a mystical force of other worldly communication. But oh, how it soothes my soul to think that it could be...

I know I need to pull up my socks, stand up tall, look up and appreciate that "all is as it is meant to be".

I am impatient with this state of hovering in a state of limbo. Not knowing, not doing, simply existing but starting to feel.

Feeling is good. If I stifle the sad, the bad and the hard stuff, I may not be able to feel the good, the happy and easygoing as much as I could.

The only way through, is to keep taking one forward step at a time. Slow and steady. One step at a time. Look forward. Look up.

There always seems to be that one final blast of "winter" before spring comes to stay. I do believe I am simply feeling the seasons. Spring is coming...

Better days are not so far away.

Stages of Living

As I hover in this no-man's-land between today and tomorrow (I really wanted to type the words "Past" and "Future", but I think it is healthier to think of this in present tense), I asked myself the  question: "What IS this phase I am going through?"

Is it grief? I suppose that may have something to do with this state of inertia. My thoughts wander backwards more than they do forward. I spend an awful lot of energy remembering, reflecting and coming to terms with life as I now know it. I suppose that is most likely considered a part of the grieving process.

I didn't google "Stages of Grief". I didn't want to pigeon hole myself into someone else's thinking. I want to find my way through and beyond this.

I feel I stuck in a state of limbo. I am simply living life one day at a time without an eye on the long term.

I'm in between dreams at the moment. I live life to the fullest when I have a dream to pursue.

I think of past dreams - dancing, writing, house renos, a few vacations, education, work aspirations, evolving relationships - and none of the above move me into a dream state right now.

The need for change has always been my biggest motivating factor. Walking away from my marriage, leaving a secure job to raise my own children, abandoning a relationship I wasn't capable of fixing. Parenthood dictated many life changing choices - getting married; moving to a new province; opening my daycare ...

Closing my daycare was the last life altering choice I made. It was the right thing to do. I walked away from a job which was dictated my life, tied me to home and felt suffocating. Out of the rubble, I found myself in a place where I was afforded all the flexibility I needed.

Which, long story short, leads me to "today".

I am stuck between the need for flexibility and the desire for the very same flexibility. I am enjoying a Friday morning off work because I still have some of that flexibility. But without a tangible dream to chase, I am wasting the time I have been given. I'm drifting at sea.

I am living without a dream.

There isn't a drastic need for change. In fact, the people I work for need me more than ever. I need to stay exactly where I am. Which is safe, familiar and (unfortunately) I am starting to feel a little bit suffocated.

"Suffocation" has been a common thread among every major change within my life. When life started demanding more than I had to give, I started pushing away and eventually walked away. Relationships, parenting, work. Even dancing started taking more than it gave back to me. Vacations? Same thing.

I thrive on the independence that comes from a symbiotic relationship with the world. A mutually beneficial relationship between me and the people I surround myself with and the life I create. The yin to another's yang. The give, the take, the mutually beneficial sharing of the good, the bad and the ugly.

Perhaps that is why it was so easy for me to be there for Mom. She didn't ask for help. She was never needy. She pushed her independence to the bitter end. She never once asked for anything. The very most she said was "You could move in ...", but she would immediately counter that with, "You have to get back home. You have a life." Right to the end.

Mom knew I had people and a family depending on me at home. She was pushing me away. She was telling me I needed to go live my life.

She also knew this life would be a drain on me. "What is your ten year plan?" The conversation that haunts me to this very day. She knew I needed to look beyond the moment I am in, the life I am leading and find a new goal. A dream.

I am not a lover of this dreamless state. It is temporary. I need to look beyond where I am at. But I'm starting to feel a little suffocated and I don't have the luxury of walking away this time. I am as committed to these people, as I was to Mom. Except they aren't pushing me away.

It's hard to be needed.

My little family is growing more and more independent from me and I feel like that is "success". To parent a child who can function fully independent of their parents is my definition of a job well done. I am very much enjoying the stage of parenting independent children. It is (what I feel) a rather symbiotic, mutually beneficial relationship.

One never entirely outgrows the need for their parent. Not entirely.

This stage. The stage of "unbecoming" Mom's daughter is foreign to me. Mom didn't need me but she was part of my identity. She still is. I need to reroute my thoughts and look in a forward direction.

One forward step at a time.

The dreams will come ... 

Possession Day

Today is the day the keys to Mom's home are handed over to its new owners.

When this thought first crossed my mind this morning, it was due to the fact that a snowfall warning showed up as an alert on my phone. "Trev won't have to worry about the snow at Mom's any more", was the passing thought I had.

This is it. The end of an era.

We moved into that house on November 1st, 1976. The only thing I really remember about the move is the fact that the previous owners had rarely cleaned the top of the kitchen cupboards and there was years grime and grease built up on them. Mom wistfully said, "I'll give you a dollar if you clean them!" I'd do pretty much anything for a dollar, so clean them? I did.

The last time I was at Mom's, I checked out the tops of those cupboards to ensure they were clean for their new owners. Granted, most of those cupboard tops are now covered since a sunshine ceiling was built, but what remained was clean. You're welcome.

My room was yellow. I made a quilt for my room and tried my hand at decorating. I even entered a redecorating contest a youth magazine was holding at the time. I didn't win, but at the time, I thought I had a good chance. I have no idea what happened to that quilt. I'm certain I must have taken it with me when I moved out, but it never made it to our Saskatoon home.

Little things.

I only lived in that house from November 1st, 1976 until February 24, 1978, yet it felt like a lifetime.

I got my first job while I lived there. I saved up and bought a bedroom suite, a 10" color TV and a none-too-fancy stereo. I was very proud of what I had accumulated on my own, to bring into my brand new marriage.

My wedding pictures were taken in the living room, with some somewhat gaudy looking velvet wallpaper as a backdrop to those photos...

Dad and me

Me and my mom

That was almost 40 years ago ...

I moved back home for about ten months after my marriage ended. All tolled, I lived in that home a mere 26 months. It was not about the time it was my home, it was about all of the years it was our family home and how it always felt like "home" to me. Always.

That house saw so very much. A highlight reel of occasions waft through my mind as I type those words.

"It's a good house for entertaining", my brother said to me during one of our last walk-throughs of Mom's home. Oh, the stories those walls would have to tell, if only those walls could talk.

That house saw us through so very much.

As I sit here and think of letting it go, I tend to think of Mom and Dad's lives ending during the years they owned that home.

Dad was far too young. His story scrolls through my mind ...

Mom's touch was in every nook and cranny of that house. As we went through the process of emptying, sorting and getting the house ready to leave our family, I wandered through each and every room and breathed in the essence of Mom.

The day she died, I could feel her presence when we came back to her house. She was still so close. Each time I returned, I felt her essence a little bit less and less. The last time I was there, I did little more than simply breathe in the moments. I could almost hear tell me to stay another day when the cold weather didn't break. I heard her. And I stayed. At the time, I felt I could have lingered in that existence between "then" and "now" forever.

Almost a month has passed since that day.

The only real reason I would have gone back, would have been to return her ironing board that doesn't fold. It belongs in Mom's laundry room. An ironing board that doesn't fold NEEDS to be in a laundry room like Mom's. It was not in the way. It served a purpose. Mom was always quite proud of her ironing skills and she had a room which made ironing easy.

Yes, that house was tailor made by and for Mom. And her family. Yes, it was a great house for entertaining. So many memories. So very, very many of them are light and easy and family filled. I hear the laughter, the voices and stories that were told under that roof. I hope the echoes of those days remain part of my memories forever.

 It was a good house. I hope it goes on to become part of another family's story...

The Universe is Very Chatty Lately

The universe is a vast, wide open, full of possibilities and suggestions. The universe has been opening up to me this weekend and I do believe the ball is now officially in my court. It is my turn to act.

I have had three complete and total days off. Off of everything. No daycare, no bookkeeping, no socializing, no leaving the house, no answering the telephone. The only contact I have had with the outside world in the two days that preceded today are three text messages and one email.

I should be changing my world as I sit here and regain my power by being quiet, still and reflective. It hasn't quite happened that way. I hope this process counts for something. Because it has been a process. It has been slow, I have allowed every little thing in the universe to distract me. But I do believe "it is all part of the plan".

Friday was a day of wondering what ideas I could turn into reality. I scanned the "Rooms for Rent" ads and tried to imagine sharing our home with a complete and total stranger. That didn't sit well with me. A friend of a friend or family member? Perhaps. A complete and total stranger? That is a whole different concept.

So I forged onward.

What happened to my Bed & Breakfast dream? That was my original plan after my daycare days ran their course. I thought of looking into the possibility of working for someone who runs a B & B so I could get a feel for what it would be like. I didn't look too hard but while I was looking, I did a little dreaming. The ideal houses to turn into a B & B are about a hundred years old. Ongoing maintenance, repairs, renovations, additions, not to mention all the nooks and crannies to clean and shine and paint took the shine off of my little dream. I can't even motivate myself to clean and maintain the little home we already have. Shake your head, girl!

As one little dream faded into dust and landed into a pile with the rest of the dirt I have yet to clean, I started to think more realistically. A job. I need a job. So I looked. And I found something I wanted to apply for. I did it. I scared myself silly. Then I lost myself to an afternoon of watching the Gilmore Guys analyze two Gilmore Girls episodes.

So ended my Friday. I sat still with my lost dreams and wasted the day away. I learned two things. Maybe three:

1. I don't want to share our home with a complete stranger. 
2. I am not in a place to open a Bed & Breakfast right now. 
3. I do not want to work at a full-time job. I already have a part-time job. I do know for sure that I want to work a maximum of five days per week. I know this much for sure. 

Then I slept.

I woke up Saturday morning and messages from the universe were pelting me from every direction.

The universe was reminding me to step fully into my decision, absolutely fully, with no looking back. No wondering "What have I done?" No running back and forth, trying to have it both ways, with one foot holding onto enough daycare belongings so I could start again if the going gets tough. I need to "sell everything" and move on.

Okay.

I took that as a cue to start decluttering a few more closets. I ended up in a closet full of books and when I sat down to rest and rethink where I was going from here, I ended up with Susan Jeffer's book "Life is Huge!" in my hands. What an awesome writer, story teller, motivator and encourager.

I got lost in the land of Google as I investigated Susan's other books and seminars. "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" is speaking to me right now. That is exactly where I am sitting within this life of mine and there is both a book AND a workshop entitled "Discover Your Inner Power - Fear Busting 101". Yes, I checked into flights, accommodations and the cost of the seminar. It exceeded my current total monthly income. There are cheaper ways of doing this. I'll find them.

I felt empowered.

So I picked up a much needed meal from McDonald's because "I deserved a break yesterday" and we have been sacrificing a lot little lately. Then I rested.

I woke up this morning and the incoming messages from the universe just keep coming. "A little progress each day adds up to big results"; "How to Stay Motivated":

S.M.A.R.T Goals are defined as Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timely

I cannot sit back and waste this time of great quiet. It is mine to use and use wisely. I was unexpectedly gifted three consecutive days off this weekend and I think it was a test. "How are you going to utilize that which you have been given?"

Have I wasted my time? In a word? Yes. There is so very much more I could have done with the two days that preceded today. Yes, I have cleared out two more closets. Yes, I have started dealing with the excesses within our deep freeze, pantry and kitchen cupboards [more on that another day "What happens to decaffeinated coffee six years after its 'best before' date anyway??].

I still believe clearing out the old is significant of making room for that which is coming. Taking care of what I already have is the sincerest form of gratitude.

I have so much. Everything I need is already within me, our home and what I have learned so far. As I listened to Oprah talk with Caroline Myss yesterday, it was as if they were speaking directly to me. I need to do everything I can do, do it to the best of my ability, with a full and grateful heart, then set it out into the world, knowing I have done everything I can do.

I haven't been giving life my "all" for a very long while. It is time. The universe is knocking me over the head with a 2 by 4 with all of these messages.

Everywhere I look, I find inspiration, encouragement and the wisdom I was not ready to hear until now. I'm listening, world. Now let's see where this takes us....

Panic Stricken

Breathe deeply. One forward step at a time. Don't panic. There is little you can change right now. Just keep doing the next right thing.

Sitting down with the reality of my budget is a little bit sobering at the moment. I was doing just fine until "real life" stepped in and now I must contend with a broken tooth, a broken window and hoping the "third" (you know how bad things supposedly happen in three's?) item on that list was replacing the weather stripping our cat chewed up.

I felt like I was being proactive when I started selling off my daycare excesses. I felt like I was in control when I stopped all extra-curricular spending immediately. I was certain the quiet would come and I would find my answers. But I haven't stopped long enough to hear and feel the quiet. So just a little bit of panic is setting in.

I felt a little bit paralyzed yesterday. I should have been digging into closets and reorganizing "my life" a little bit. Yesterday was the day I could have cleared out a room to make room for whatever is heading my way. Instead, I peeked into my son's room as he gave up a handful of items he is willing to put up for sale and thought "Man, we have a very long way to go!"

I've come so far. I can't stop now. Why did I freeze up yesterday? Was it the fact that it was just a one day weekend? Was it because my crazy-busy week caught up with me and my head was spinning with all the activity, people and words which were tossed into six short days?

Maybe I wasn't ready to be with people yet because the question of the hour was, "So what are you going to do next?" I didn't have an answer. I felt foolish for admitting that I honestly didn't know. My pipe dreams of "If I build it, they will come" felt very "Field of Dreamish" when I started speaking the words. Writing the words is another thing.

Writing empowers me. Speaking depletes me. I think I need to hunker down and isolate myself so I can hear my own thoughts again. Last week was amazing. I loved every moment of it. But at the end of it all, I was empty. I wasn't ready to admit my plan relied on faith and faith alone quite yet.

I know I need to take one step in a forward direction. I just don't want to backtrack and wish I hadn't stepped out before I was ready. I will do the quiet work by myself first. Then I will take one step outside my box, with one foot planted safely on stable ground.

It has only been two weeks. I have only missed one pay cheque so far. I'm still in the black. I'm still okay. This is going to be an expensive week as the dentist tells me "where we go from here" and the window guys bill me for the cost of one act of vandalism which I shouldn't have to absorb. When I was making the "big bucks", these things didn't bother me. I just rolled with the expenses and carried on. I will do the same this week. In fact, I have these expenses fully covered simply by selling off my daycare assets.

I'm okay. I will continue to be okay. This I know for sure. I'm just a little bit afraid of flying rocks and biting down too hard right now. It will all work out in the end. And if it hasn't, it is not yet the end ...

No Definite Plans

It has been a week since I discovered my financially solvent life was briskly coming to an end. I've had a week for the news to sink in and take hold. A week to conspire and plan. A week to work myself into a frenzy. It has been a week and I am firm in my believe "this" is exactly where I want and need to be right now. This temporary lull with no defined outcome is a gift. The gift of being flexible.

I love that I have also been given the gift of stability for three months. Being committed to tending one child versus five feels easy breezy. I am tied to life as I know it for three more months. Life as I know it, without the stress I have been feeling looks and feels very comfortable to me. When I'm comfortable, I make better choices. The very fact that I'm able to look ahead and know I'm in a spot where "flexibility" is my new reality, I feel at peace.

As I cull my way through the excesses of our world, I am looking at the bigger picture. I'm trying to pull "myself" out of much of the space within our home. There is a deep, quiet knowing that I must make room for change. The process of emptying cupboards, closets and drawers is cathartic.

It has almost been 29 years since I moved my little family out here. We arrived with very little. Our first home was furnished with the bare necessities of living and our basement was empty. Our lives were upended within the course of a month and at the end of it all, we had the basics in place to start our new lives with a fresh, new slate.

I don't have a great desire to wipe my slate clean at this point of my life but getting back to the basics, purging the excess and a fresh new beginning with the stability of the life I have built to this point feels right. So very right.

Mom is at a place in her life where I simply want to be able to pack up on a moment's notice and "be there". Everything is fine. There is no need for concern right now. But I simply want to be able to say "I can be there, if you want me to be". I haven't been able to say that before.

There was a short period in my life when I couldn't have cared less what my employer thought. I just picked up and left with no notice and came back when it felt right to come home again. I did that once. I did the same thing during my last holiday. I knew that was what I wanted to create in my life. Room to pick up and leave on a moment's notice.

I am almost there. Three more months. In searching for someone who could move into my life while I move out yesterday, I wrote the words "I could be out by the new year. Just think about it ..." That suggestion came from a recent conversation where we each laid out a glimmer of what we were thinking may lie in our future. A conversation where we said, "I'm just thinking about this", like it was a far fetched dream. I thought of my dream and their dream and the possibility of how we could work together and make both a reality.

My early morning brain to fingertip connection was all lubricated yesterday morning when I laid out the possibility that maybe, just maybe we could work together to make a change within our lives, while each of us held onto the real estate we have adopted as part of "us" and part of our lifestyle. I thought of how I never in a million years would have thought of a collaborative effort if we hadn't had that conversation where each of us spoke the words out loud and said, "This is what I'm thinking about".

I truly believe we have to speak about what we want to bring about. When we say the words out loud, they hold more power to redefine our world than when we simply sit still with them and hold everything inside. The same can be said about the words which have the power to bring us to our knees and hold us down.

Say the words out loud to someone you trust. Give your hopes and your wishes some hope by speaking them aloud. Take the power of the demons of fear, shame, secrecy and embarrassment away by sharing them in some way. Write, speak, sing it out loud. By working together, by sharing that which brings us up and that which brings us down we can change our own little world. When we change the way we look, feel and live our lives we change those around us.

I absolutely love this place where I am at right now. This place of "no definite plans" is empowering me to believe I can go and do and be wherever I need and want to go. By not making definite plans, the world looks and feels entirely different. Because I am starting to feel empowered again, I am also starting to feel like I have something to give again. The life of holding onto everything I had, not wanting to share my time, myself or invite people in was confining me in ways I didn't even realize.

The ability to dream is life affirming. I've said it before and I'll say it again. When I stop dreaming and believing I have the power to turn my hopes into realities, I stop living. When I stop living, my world becomes far too small.

This temporary state of a life with "no definite plans" is exactly where I want to be. It will give me what I need to find out where I want to go next.

What's Next?

It is both terrifying and exhilarating to be standing at this precipice in my life and wondering "Where do I go from here?" I am nervous about my income level being slashed to an all time low but grateful to be stuck in a place where I can't do too much about it.

I am still committed to my daycare for as long as my last daycare child is left standing. I must be home and available for nine hours a day (my workday got shortened by an hour, which also includes the side benefit of a nap time I no longer have to share with a wide awake three year old), five days a week. So I must stay home and be present for my little almost two year old who is really quite adorable when left to her own devises (her older friends have not been a good influence on her I'm afraid).

I have to stay home and make the best of things for the next three months. It is a tiny bit like a three month staycation. I will finally get that holiday at home I have been craving. I am pretty excited.

I woke up this morning and felt grateful for my work-at-home experience. I love this space. I am grateful for the dress code and thrilled that I don't have to wear shoes. Make up is optional and bad hair days are no big deal. I love my little self employed life.

The question is: "Can I keep doing some version of what I am doing?" Another question is: "Should I keep doing another version of what I am presently doing?"

I have been living a life without health benefits, sick leave, paid vacations and pension for eighteen years now. It hasn't been impossible and I have managed quite well. The thing is (and I suppose this is important), I am reaching an age where health benefits, sick leave and a pension have become something that is more important than ever. If I stop working, my income stops coming in. Immediately. "This" is what the next three months of my life will teach me.

I have been very fortunate to be playing such a vital role in my own decision to wind down my daycare. Life could have dealt me a very different hand. An accident or health issue could have stopped me in my tracks and not only would I be without an income, I would have to deal with the consequences of a body that wasn't in good working condition.

I often muse over the fact that often, if we don't slow down and take heed to life's subtle messages that we need to stop what we are doing, "life" takes that decision out of our hands. Take one exhausted, stressed soul and toss them back into the arena which is breaking them down slowly but surely each and every day and you end up with a person whose body starts breaking down under the stress. Or making an error in judgement or not reacting quickly enough to avoid some kind of accident.

I have been a strong believer that if you don't listen to life's subtle and not so subtle clues that you need to stop in your tracks and change something, "life" will take that decision out of your hands.

I'm grateful to be steering my own ship at this point. I knew I wanted to stop and enjoy the scenery at a harbor while I refueled, refreshed and "renovated" a little. That is exactly how I feel about the upcoming three month reprieve I have been given. This little benefit comes without income, benefits or a pension. But I have my health. I have my mind. I will find my quiet place in the sun. My answers will come.

If money is the worst of our problems, we are very fortunate indeed. I am feeling like I'm living a pretty charmed life right about now. What I don't have in dollars and cents, I have in appreciation for what I already have and common sense.

What's next? I'm not terribly sure. But I do know I'm glad I don't need to know this by tomorrow. Or within two weeks. I have been given the gift of time. "Time" is all I have been aching and yearning for. I never dream about being "rich". I am already rich in all that truly matters.

Crunching Numbers

The challenge is on. The moment I heard my daycare income was coming to a near halt three months earlier than anticipated, I felt like a squirrel who got caught off guard in the middle of summer. There he (the squirrel) was, merrily sitting back in the sun savoring the nuts he found, eating as he went along. Then POOF! The ice age hit and there he was, caught off guard with nothing stored for winter.

My bank account is akin to an empty storage bin. In fact, I borrowed a few too many "nuts" as I was busy living the past several summers of my life. So not only do I not have any nuts saved for winter, but I still owe Tom, Dick and Harry for all the nuts I borrowed to get me through the past several winters.

Yes, I have a good solid home to weather the seasons. There is plenty amassed within these four walls of ours (plus the four walls within the garage and playhouse as well), so even though my "nut gathering" habits have not been good ones, we won't be out in the cold or hungry. Not for a while anyway.

I started selling off the excess within a few weeks prior to finding out winter was coming early in my neck of the woods, budget wise. But when I found out the bulk of my income sources were going to be done by the end of the month, I stopped all spending immediately. Where do I go from here?

You can bet your bottom dollar that my desire to sell the excess within, is fuelled by need now. I still don't want to have to dip into these "rainy day funds" (in my deluded mind, I thought this could go towards a little holiday one day in the distant future).

My first thought is that I will need to dip into my pension after all. No matter what way I look at it, I need to pull from future income in order to pay today's bills. There is simply no other way. Those "nuts" that I was forced to save while I was part of the work force with benefits are proving to be vital to my well being at the moment. But in the idle chatter that never stops going on within the back of my mind are the words, "What can you do? What do you want to do now? What are you good at doing?" There must be a value to some of my talents, sparse as they may be. How can I make our house work for us?

Is it feasible to rent out the main floor? If each floor was ready to live independently on its own without sharing kitchen, bathroom and laundry facilities at this very moment, it would be a very viable plan. But spending money to make money right now doesn't sound like a wise idea.

What marketable skills do I have? My idea of wanting to be "the person Mom needs" - someone who could be available to take someone to a doctor's appointment, pick up groceries, drive them to the mall, tend to the house and yard and simply be a "Daughter for Hire" is something that keeps coming to mind when the house is quiet and I am still with my thoughts.

There has to be a way. There has to be. If I don't force it. If I simply let it come, the answer is within. At least I hope it is.

I'm pinning my future on an awful lot of hope and faith right now. I hope it is enough.

Trusting the Moment

"The world knows. Don't rush the moment. Trust in the moment you are in." These are the words I typed at 7:23 yesterday morning. Five minutes later, my world as I know it started to change dramatically. By the end of the day I discovered life as I know it is going to be completely upended within three weeks.

I gave my daycare families four months notice that I was closing my daycare at the end of the year. I knew this could happen. I just didn't think it would happen so suddenly. By the end of this month, only fourteen daycare days away, I will be down to taking care of one child. One. 

One mouth to feed, one child to watch over, one nap time, one child, no other friends. One income. I have three weeks of income at my regularly budgeted amount. Then I'm down to "one" - 20% of the income I was anticipating for the remainder of the year. Yikes.

"The world knows. Don't rush the moment. Trust in the moment you are in."

Deep breath. Okay. I knew this could happen. I didn't think it would happen. I needed it to happen. It's okay. I'm okay. This is happening for a reason. 

I was somewhat concerned that after my mini breakdown during my summer holiday, that I would end up running my daycare until Christmas, the Christmas holiday would be a blur and I would be starting a full time bookkeeping job immediately thereafter. I wouldn't end up with a break. I knew I needed a break. I am now getting a break. A pretty big one in fact.

The last daycare child standing is going to become a big sister in December. I may only have her until the end of November. I may end up with close to a month off. 

This is scary. This is exciting. This is big. Change is happening and I'm actually going to have the time to embrace it, move with it and I will be forced not to take any flying leaps into the unknown. Because I will still have one child to tend. I will still need to be available nine hours a day, five days a week. I can't jump because I still have a responsibility here.

I'm grateful I simply cannot leap right now. This precipice is a little bit scary but it is exactly where I want to be. I didn't want to jump directly into another full time job when I closed up my daycare. This is exactly what I wanted. The reality is a little more nerve wracking than I expected. But I am leaning into it and trusting this is exactly where I need to be.