Regaining Equilibrium

Jumping back into life-at-home wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Offering to work the afternoon of my first day home threw me off my groove a little but it jump-started me in a way that was necessary.

Now that I have 2-1/2 workdays under my belt (one to go until the weekend), I'm feeling a little more human. Then again, is that because I went and booked a restorative weekend away?

What?? That's crazy. After all the "holidaying" I did last week, why did I go and do this? 

A myriad of reasons but the best of all the reasons is because I found an above-ground AirBnB two blocks from Mom's previous home. Home. The place I always returned to regain my equilibrium.

I'm going "home" again. A quiet weekend with family/friends and no commitments. No appointments, no errands, no cats and in a rooftop suite with LOTS of windows.

They say you can't go home again but I'm going anyway. Everything has changed. I've changed. Relationships have evolved. But "home", back in my old neighborhood, is the closest I can get to the feeling I had when I visited Mom.

I've been missing her a little bit lately. I want to go home.

I Can Do This

Mom, I sure miss you right now. I hope you are within, around and surrounding me this upcoming weekend.

I knew I wanted to extend an invitation. I didn't have it in me to do it. Thankfully my cousins married people who aid and abet our best existence. A door was ajar. I simply had to open mine and it was as easy as that.

Nerves were getting the best of me. Then I got a call from another cousin's wife. She may not realize it but she was exactly who I needed to talk with, to get me where I need to be to actually look forward to this weekend. I've adopted her as my own. She is my cousin. In fact, I feel more like sisters. Thank you.

I hung up the phone and did what I could do, to ready the yard for company. Not much. I mowed the sparse lawn and picked an ice cream bucket full of weeds. A step in a forward direction.

I woke up this morning and told myself attending this upcoming Homecoming Weekend will be easier if I go tonight. It will make tomorrow fall into place naturally and I'll find my way.

I'm missing Mom terribly right now. She was my strength at these hometown events. I became stronger after the last time she did the legwork and gathered "my people" at a table together. That strength is still there somewhere. 

I'm sure I will find it. Mom will be at my side in some capacity. She is within me and I still feel her walk beside me at times. Times like these.

I can do this.

After

I did it. I spent the day outside dealing with pinecones, leaves and just a general clean-up around here.

If one compares yesterday's pictures to the ones below, the undiscerning eye may not notice a vast difference: 

But this is the difference my eye is drawn to - the leaf/pinecone pile in the back alley:

Before

After 10 dumped loads of pinecones

That is all.

Waging the War of the Pinecones

Today's mission? Attack the pine cone infestation in the yard.

I wrote those words and immediately went back to my numbers game. How many dollars worth of points have I accumulated on my various rewards/credit cards that reward me for spending? $325.00 worth of "free spending" has amassed while I was busy spending. The leaf blower I have my eye on costs $338.00. 

I like the way life balances out, when I play the games I do with budgeting and spending.

Oh, number$ ... I have missed you so. I'll be back to play within the contents of my spreadsheets after I tend to the yard.

Back yard

Side yard

One HALF of the front yard

(Part of) the other half of the front yard

Driveway - by the street

More of the driveway. Yes, that is still a snow bank in the background.

This is a lot of yard for one who doesn't love nature.

I conquered the bookkeeping and taxes. I can defeat the pinecones.

Until the next wind blows the stockpile the trees are still holding onto.

Just Another Manic Monday

I feel fired up and energized this morning. One perpetual-motion-kind-of-day begets another. It's a shame I have to waste this energy by going to work.

Sigh.

I have hermit like characteristics that would not serve me well, if I didn't have to push myself out of my comfort zones on a regular basis. The pandemic encouraged my favored lifestyle and I savored the moments when life expected less of me.

When I dreamed of creating a life in my new home, I had visions of semi-retirement dancing through my head. I would do a little bookkeeping for a side income, live off my pension income, live a quiet little life and I would start to create something out of the letters Mom & I wrote to each other over the course of 30 years.

I would sit on the deck with my coffee and a book. I would watch the sky, the birds, nature and simply listen to the sounds around me.

I would putter around the yard in the summer, read and write in the winter. I would go where the wind blew ...

Oh, it was a good dream. Peaceful. Content. 

Then the wind blew in and directed me towards two casual job positions which have quite likely saved me from myself.

I need routine. People and social contact is very good for me. Oh, and the income comes in pretty handy.

Weekends go far too quickly. I tend to fritter one day away and if I'm lucky, the second day off is more productive. That is not always the case.

Every single time I have a perpetual motion kind of day - a day where one thing leads to the next, the next and the next it feels so good I wonder why I don't make the best use of my days more often.

I wrote those words and realized even my unproductive days are a result of perpetual motion. It is simply motion that doesn't produce results.

Yesterday was a good day. It started with not having the ingredients nor feeling in the right kind of mood to do a little meal-prep for the upcoming week. It ended with this:

Enough prepared meals to last a week. 

Perhaps I should freeze some for a weekend that doesn't produce the same results.

Monday is hard. 

It is made a little easier when your prior self is looking out for your future self.

Please take care of your present day self. 

That's all we really have.

Moving Toward

There has been a shift in my mindset lately. My focus is where I am heading instead of where I am.

My regularly scheduled stressors have felt more manageable because the end is near. My work here is (almost) done. I must accomplish what needs to be done, lay the groundwork for what happens next and let it go.

The bigger picture is what I am moving toward. Settling into my little weekend oasis which will become my new permanent home. HOME. Home ...

I am picturing and imagining how I will make this shared cabin-feeling house into a place where I am making decisions based on my personal preferences. No cats, dependents or anyone but me need to be taken into consideration.

I got married and moved out of home when I was 17 years old. I went from living with Mom, Dad and my brother to living with my husband. Then we had a baby. 

There have been two additional, well spaced out children added to my dependent-count as well as a rotating number of dogs, (mostly) cats and a few pet rodents (a few wild ones too). My marriage was one of an on-again, off-again, on-again, off-again (repeat one more time) variety and my second long term relationship never resulted in sharing a roof. 

There were 14 years of full-time daycaring, when almost all home repair, improvement and renovations were made based on the necessity of having a child-friendly home. 

Then came the years (three and counting) of bookkeeping from home. One bedroom dedicated 100% to a home office, file storage space encompassing half of the available floor space in a second bedroom and a holding space for four (very) large filing cabinets in our "flex space" (ie - room without a purpose). 

I have always shared my home with others. Even when my children were on a holiday or away for some reason, there was always a four-footed critter afoot, to explain away any bumps in the night. 

I have never lived alone.

In just over three months, I am moving into a dependent-free; cat-free; and (almost) office-free home. My foot is in the door, with a casual job position in my new home town. I am close enough to start imagining how life will look and feel when I am there.

I have a renewed appreciation for where I am, because I know it is not where I am going to stay. I'm moving forward and toward a renewed life.

I am looking at our generic cabin-like house and beginning to see beyond what is and envisioning what it can become.

Ahhh ... to look forward and allow myself to dream again. There is much work to be done to get from "here" to "there" but the mere act of moving toward a goal is life affirming.

A shift in perspective is hard to come by when a person is in the thick of coping with life-as-it-is. Moving toward a small goal is a baby step in the right direction.

Love is in the Air

I don't rabbit-watch much these days. If a rabbit isn't in sight when I gaze out our living room window, I don't linger like I did once upon a lifetime ago.

We haven't had much snow this year, so I haven't sprinkled grain under our tree to supplement the rabbit's winter diet. Without the rabbit-food nor snow to track their movements, all has seemed pretty quiet.

Snow did finally arrive and with it, rabbit tracks and evidence of rabbits circling our tree checking out the food supply (yes, I did sprinkle the grain when the ground was covered in snow). Even at that, I have only managed a few rabbit sightings.

I am fairly certain the number of rabbits in our neighborhood hasn't changed. The difference is the time I spend devoted to rabbit watching. As I quickly walk away from the living room window, I remember the days/hours/time I used to spend at the window. 

"Hiding in plain sight" is what rabbits do best. I would stare into the winter scene and try to discern clumps of snow from rabbits. They look remarkably alike. I can lose sight of a rabbit if I take my eyes off the while they are on the move. Only to find them again, if they start moving.

While I miss those days spent at the living room window, I am frustrated at my new self. There is a hollow feeling inside of me that isn't patient enough to wait until a rabbit hops into view. Hopefulness and patience seem to be in short supply.

This morning, the moment I opened the blinds two rabbits were quickly making there way towards our yard. They had been startled by an early morning walker. They went off in two different directions as a strategy to keep at least one of them safe from danger. When the walker moved on and showed no sign of pursuit, they reunited very shortly thereafter, then hopped along down the street and out of sight.

The flurry of rabbit activity spurred me into glancing again. 

This time, there were three rabbits on the move. Once stopped, the lead rabbit hunkered down and faced the other two. Hmmm ... was I witnessing a female with two male suitors? When one of the (presumed) males confronted the "lead rabbit" (aka: female?), she hissed at him and he backed off. The second rabbit did not take advantage of the possibility of him being first choice. They soon hopped away, the female still leading the way, started burrowing into a small pile of snow, but abandoned that idea when her suitors were still interested. Soon enough, they hopped out of sight and I don't know the rest of their story.

My rabbit-tale coincided nicely with the date. Could it be that I was witnessing a little spring rabbit-love in the air?

Lots of rabbit tracks ... no rabbits in sight. 

But they aren't far.

Delightfully Uncomplicated

As I sit here this morning, coffee at my side and a little time on my hands, life feels delightfully uncomplicated.

There is no reason for today to feel different from other days. I simply woke up at my home-away-from-home and I'm ready to log another work day at my new job.

New jobs are fraught with stresses and complications. This is no different. The difference is me.

I'm taking a step towards my future. I feel comfortable. I feel comforted. I feel better.

I took a picture of our backyard and realized as I was taking it, the kitchen cupboards were reflected in the shot. It reflects a little of how I feel at the moment. 

Eyes on the present moment, while reflecting upon where I'm at and quietly plotting what I need to do to get here.

Some Things Bear Repeating

In my valiant attempt to re-jig my finances to find new ways of living within my means, I have cancelled cable and in its place, our internet provider provided a free streaming service. 

A new found wealth of programs I have never accessed before has me watching more TV than ever before. I discovered a documentary section where I have invested many hours. Me, being a long time fan of Cher, found a few documentaries on her. 

I knew I had blogged about Cher after attending two of her concerts. Thus, I opened up my blog and typed "Cher" in the search bar. I lost track of time as I read every post I wrote that contained "Cher" within the context. When I found this one, I thought "this one bears repeating". Enough said.

Here are some thoughts from almost four years ago. The anniversary of the day Mom left this world was a few days ago, so these words feel like a timely message from beyond:

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2019

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.

Here We Go Again

I think I found a piece of myself this past weekend.

I found it while savoring some solitude in my little oasis away from home

I hope I can hold onto whatever this is once I step back into my regularly scheduled life.

I don't want to go home.

I love this little piece of heaven right here on earth.

I'll be back!

I know I have the same easy feeling within my home,

but it is a relief to spend time away from my work that lives with me 

... and all the cat hair.

Oh, the cat hair.

May you find a small piece of heaven somewhere within your day-to-day world.

Holding On

Winter made its presence known again yesterday.

A light, unaggressive snowfall left a dusting of snow in its wake.

Soon, paw prints in the snow will no longer tell the tale of what unseen presence is around us.

There is something to savor within every season.

As it is with life.

The only thing certain about today is that it will not be the same as yesterday. 

Every step we take is a step beyond where we were.

New days, new seasons, change are all part of our existence.

When those days are hard,

remind yourself you have survived 100% of those days so far.

Please keep going.

Spring is coming.

The sun will rise again tomorrow.

"Time is a wheel that is spinning

Always moving on

The moments you think last forever

You look up and one day they're gone

Gotta hold on, hold on, hmm"

~ Gold - SAILR

Going Home Again

I did it! I have finalized and tweaked my upcoming three-day-vacation plans. I have contacted those I hope to see and set up some tentative times to meet. And I've given myself the gift of one extra night.

During the last of my visits with Mom, I offered to leave Monday morning and she readily agreed to having someone in the house one more night. That bonus day became exactly that. One more day. One more night. One more visit. 

I would leave nice and early Monday morning and be home in time to make it to my bonus job. Every weekend felt like a long weekend when I tacked on that extra night.

As I mapped out my plans for my visit back in Mom's old neighborhood, I hoped I would be able to arrange visits with those I've missed seeing (so much!) since the pandemic changed our world. It has always been my intention to keep going back to visit family and friends after Mom died. The year 2020 changed all of that.

I have maintained relationships with those-at-a-distance since I moved away from my old neighborhood 35 years ago. I became a loyal customer to Canada Post, weekly letters to Mom, occasional letters to friends, birthdays, Christmas, thank you and thinking of you cards and notes were second nature to me. Long distance phone calls were a luxury back in those days, before discounted long distance calling and long distance phone deals were invented. That didn't deter me. I could write to anyone at any time of the day or night and know my letter in the mail would not be an interruption in their day. It would sit quietly on its own and would be opened in due time. I wasn't an inconvenience to anyone. I loved those days.

Then came email. Instant receipt of my long winded letters in emails. Once again, I was quietly assured that my email would only be read when the recipient had time. Emails don't require an instant response though the turnaround time to send and receive an email certainly trumped the postal system. 

I could send out a number of emails at one time. "Send and forget" was my motto. I was very brave issuing invitations because I could invite a number of people at one time and there was no score keeping. I didn't take a non-response as an insult. I cast a wide net and those who were inclined, were free to join in. No expectation. No disappointment. I lived my glory days via email. It was a good time.

Then ... came cell phones. I didn't have the ability to send or receive texts on my first phone. Nor did I want that feature. Cell phones are for emergencies or when you aren't near a landline. I didn't want people to have my cell number because I considered my phone a call-out-only convenience. If I wasn't home, I didn't want to be talking on the phone.

Well ... all of that has changed. When I finally updated my old cell phone, my new one came with a cell phone package that included texting. This was back in 2010. I was still new to texting and though it was a novelty and kind of fun to send and receive instant messages, I wasn't entirely sold on the idea as a way of life.

I don't know how it happened. But it has. The convenience of texting and receiving instant gratification more often than not, I ended up being "one of those people" who utilized their cell phone as a regular means of communication. Whether I was home or not. 

The expectation of receiving an immediate response has changed me. Much to my chagrin, I have started keeping score. I love that I have friends and family who are known for only reading and responding to messages when it is a good time for them. No slight intended. They have kept me grounded and saved me from myself. As much as I fall back into the "I wonder why I haven't heard back...", I can talk myself down. Perhaps my message wasn't received. No time to respond. Maybe they simply forgot to reply or hit the "Send" button after thinking they had responded (I've done this on more occasions than I can remember).

Long story short, I have talked myself into believing I may not even have friends in my old neighborhood who are all that interested in visiting with me when I'm out. Just how much of a friend have I been lately? I don't call. I don't write. I don't reach out. Would I want to be my friend? Maybe my wish for isolation was granted [be careful what you wish for].

I sat still with those thoughts until they had time to marinade a little. It was a good reminder for me to be more of the friend I want to be. So I started reaching out to those who I hoped to see. And they responded. They like me! They still like me!! Even after I took COVID restrictions to the max and isolated myself ever so much longer than necessary.

 I can go home again!! And I will ensure I do my best to keep that door open.

Hanging on By a Thread

Life is fine. I'm doing okay. All is well enough within the confines of my small little world. But am I the only one who feels like I'm just hanging on and dangling by a thread until the next wave of the unknown hits?

Ever since the COVID pandemic stunned the planet with the ability to paralyze the world and leave no one untouched by the effects, I have a feeling I'm not alone with the unsteadiness of the ground beneath my feet.

On a personal level it is the unknowns that lie before me that have stopped me in my tracks. I'm regaining my footing but I'm ever wary of each forward step I take. It's like descending a staircase in the dark. Tentatively putting one foot out and feeling for the security of the next step while the other foot is on solid ground. All-the-while, holding onto the banister just in case the stairway gives out.

Work. Family. Health. Finances. Future. These are the things that will forever remain tentative and subject to change.

I marvel at my good fortune. All of the above is stable and I have faith all will work out in the end no matter how much I attempt to plan. 

I feel like I'm living in the state of "before". "Before COVID"; "Before" all the life changing situations which seemingly happened out of the blue but there is a distinct divide in the "before" and "after" timeline.

Hanging by a thread. More like a spider's web. Caught up in my thoughts more than anything at all. 

Everything is okay. I'm just wary of the ground I'm standing on. Feeling a little like I'm finding my way through a house of mirrors. The secret is to look at the ground. Keep grounded. 

I had no idea I was going to write this. Not sure where this came from. It all started with the feeling I was walking into the day hanging on by a thread ...

Anniversaries

Congratulations to all who have wedding anniversaries they are celebrating. 

Some couples are still united after a lifetime of creating a life together. Others have lost their life partner. Loss comes in so many forms. Death is the most final but divorce, dementia, deterioration of the relationship/body/mind/soul in a physical or psychological manner still result in loss of the life one may have dreamed of.

As I think of the wedding anniversaries I didn't celebrate due to divorce, a year doesn't pass when the date rolls around and reminds me of the life I thought I was going to have when I married over 44 years ago.

We were starry eyed and in love. We knew others didn't believe our marriage would last but we were determined to prove they were wrong. As we sat side-by-side on my husband's truck bench seat, we saw our future lives as two grey haired old souls still sitting side-by-side in any and all future vehicles we would own.

I remember how we laughed together. We spent a lot of time in that truck. Driving. Dreaming. Drive-In movies. Drinking. Dining at the A&W drive-in (insert vintage image of car hops with food trays that clipped onto the driver's window). Bush parties. Youthful shenanigans I never in a million years dreamed a nerdy girl like me would ever have.

Waiting for the phone to ring, back in the days when telephones were wired into a wall, before call display or answering machines. The anticipation of a call with a boy's voice on the other end of the line. My fearful attempts to call him. 

He drank too much. I thought it was just part of being young. There was one instance of foreshadowing our future while we were dating. It wasn't a huge deal but looking back, I now recognize the significance. 

We were young. We thought we could conquer our world together and tame the demons that seemed to rear their heads when alcohol was involved. 

The good times were incredible. Unfortunately the bad times matched the intensity of the good. Making up and the aftermath of the worst of times almost made it worth the pain involved to get to the other side. I was naïve and in love.

One of the most heartfelt gifts I gave my husband was a Zippo lighter - with a Lifetime Warranty. I promised I also came with a lifetime guarantee and would be around as long as the lighter. I thought if I could love him enough and reassure him of my unwavering commitment, he would become more of the person I fell in love with. [Foreshadowing moment I just realized - Zippo lighters come with a Limited Lifetime Warranty] Apparently my guarantee was also of a limited variety.

When we loved, we loved hard. When we hated, we hated with the same intensity. To say I loved him as much as I hated him at times, would be the truth. I knew the end had come when I simply felt indifference.

The young, starry eyed girl who fell head over heals with someone she thought she could heal by simply loving him wanted to honor those wedding vows "Til death do us part". But when a wave of consciousness of what that destiny would mean to two children raised in the-environment-that-was-our-marriage surfaced, I was done.

I doubt I would have seen the light if I was looking out for only myself. It was the vision of what our children would grow up believing was "normal" that bred the indifference I finally felt when I gathered up our children and left.

There was a deep sense of "knowing" I would die an early death within this marriage. By saving my children, I saved myself. And we (for the most part) lived happily ever after.

I missed being part of a couple. I loved being married. Being a wife. Building a future together. Looking towards the future and seeing "us" together until death parted us.

I raised our family. The scars our oldest carries due to his exposure to life-as-we-knew-it prior to the new life we created weighs on me. Our second-born child, an infant when we left, still had a less-than-ideal-childhood, but a childhood I can live with.

Yet, when wedding anniversaries become a topic of discussion, it is the memories of the life we truly believed we would build together that rises to the surface. Two people who believed their love could conquer all. I think of the toasted BLT sandwiches we made as we unloaded our groceries; the frozen fries I cooked in the oven while my husband ran out to buy KFC gravy to go with those fries so we could experience eating out on a budget; it is the times we watched movies together on our brand new VHS player; making up in the middle of the night and sharing a cup of tea. I remember how good it felt to be loved and to reciprocate that love in the only manner I knew. 

I believe he loved me as much as he was capable of loving. I loved him as much I could in return.

We were two young kids, believing we knew more than we did, drunk on love (whatever love is) and when life was good, it was very good indeed. We celebrated very few anniversaries together. Forever was not our destiny. But I never forgot the life we believed in. 

May your anniversaries carry the wisp of hope and vitality you brought into the forever-ness of  the future you believed in. Together or apart, those who have been important to us continue to live within us. Until death parts us. And beyond ...

Setting Intentions

I sat down and had a good, stern talk with myself one morning a few days ago. I came up with a list of intentions. I may have set too many. But I tried to make each and every one of them attainable.

It sounds easy:

• Walk
• Water 
• Write
• Limit TV/Netflix
• MINDFUL eating only (cut out eating in front of the TV, while at the computer or reading)
• Read
• Putter
• Initiate (notes/letters/email; invitations; seek out something new/different)

NOTE: Absolutely NONE-OF-THE-ABOVE cost one penny!

So far, I have managed four out of the eight. Not bad but there is room for improvement.

Writing - that is a big one for me. I have been half-hazardly hand writing three, 8-1/2" X 11" morning pages in a semi sorta on-again-off-again manner. I can do better than that. So? Here I am. Back on my blog.

When I started this blog, my goal was to write once a day. Focus on the positive. Live my days so I had something to write about (i.e. NOTICE the little things daily). Little stories. Write purposefully and attempt to wind up each post with a succinct finish that made my words worth reading.

I have strayed far off the mark and recently simply stopped posting. 

I am back. I plan to stay. By blogging, I become accountable. Accountable to show up, live each day in the moment so I have something fresh to bring to the page, focus on positive and up-lifting moments and make an attempt to wind up my thoughts with a summary worth reading. 

Those are a lofty set of goals. I am rusty but I will give it my best shot. I can tell I'm already making some headway. I am noticing "nature" again. I am stopping to listen and watch the world like I did in my days of daycaring. I have picked up the phone and initiated contact with friends and family. I am getting my feet wet and initiating invitations &/or suggestions.

I have been lost. COVID restrictions kept me where I was comfortable. It is time to peek out of this protected little shell I've built around myself and step back into the world. Would you like to join me? Please do. I do believe a better way of living life is out there if we simply open our eyes, ears and door so we can meet life half way.

Hello

Hello. It's me. I was wondering if after all this time I'd like to sit down and write again ...

Yes. I do believe I do. I feel more "me" than I have felt in a very long time. I think I'm finally ready to let my fingertips do the talking and see if I can hear the deepness of my thoughts that haven't had the opportunity to find their way to my consciousness.

As I have been walking through my morning, I keep hearing Mom's voice in my thoughts. I miss being a daughter. The last year of Mom's life, I believe I went to see her as often as I did so I could be mothered, hear what she had to say and just lean in and take in all I could.

Mom knew me better than I knew myself. She knew I had to close my daycare. She was wary when I switched my vocation from child care to senior care. She knew ...

A wise friend of mine once wrote about the contrasts between caring for the young who are becoming more independent with each step forward verses caring for those who are on the opposite end of the spectrum and becoming more dependent as time progresses. 

While children may sap one's energy physically, there is a mental fatigue that comes with investing one's time solely with their senior counterparts. 

There is a joyfulness in children I often described as "heaven on earth" moments when I had my daycare. In equal comparison, there is an inner child within my more senior friends who light up like a Christmas tree when reminiscing and talking about the good old days. 

One of my favorite things was watching children at play while they had no idea I was watching. The fly-on-the-wall moments. Innocence. Imagination. Their unique ways of taking in the moments. The moments wonder. Listening to children using good manners without an adult prompting them. The moments were precious and plentiful. One just had to stop and take notice of them when they happened.

One of my favorite things while spending time with my senior companions is when they get lost in the retelling of the stories of their past. Their eyes glisten and shine. Their posture changes. There is an energy from within that lights them up and rolls back the years. They have so much wisdom to share. So many stories. There is a history within them begging to be told.

There is a space between the day-to-day repetitive nature of child and senior caring and those moments of joy that is hard. It was those times when I ran out to Mom's to escape the increasing pressure of of maintaining my equilibrium. I needed to place some distance my day-to-day life and drive off to spend time with my lifeline. My mom.

I have missed running out to see Mom. I have missed being "daughtered". I have a supportive group of friends and family that would keep me standing throughout any storm. But I have missed distancing my day-to-day life from a place where I can go to recharge and rejuvenate myself.

I believe I have finally found my way back "home". Again.

I haven't felt this certain about the next right step for quite some time. I have not felt the yearning desire to leave this oasis I call home to go anywhere for a very, very long time. 

Something has changed.

This little gem is a weekend getaway for now. A potential place to call home when I retire. 

I haven't looked forward in anticipation for longer than I can remember. I lost my dream gene. Every little piece of the puzzle has fit together in a way to make this new dream possible. I have felt Mom and Dad's nod of approval every step of the way.

When I was a nine year old child, I vividly remember sobbing uncontrollably when we drove off our farm in the hills in Saskatchewan to head off to our new lives in Edmonton. I vowed to myself, "I'm going to grow up, become a teacher and move back to our home town". 

I didn't become a teacher but I do believe my inner child is completely satisfied with the reality of moving to small town Saskatchewan. Not the same small town I dreamed of as a child. But close. So very close.

I Can't Hear Myself Think

I have become everything I never wanted to be. 

Unmotivated, uninspired ... put the prefix "un" in front of all the things I ever aspired to become and that is the gist of my overall feeling of unrest.

Writing has saved me from myself time and time again. Yet I cannot seem to find the words to put to page the way I used to. It doesn't matter if I write uncensored thoughts just for myself, words here on my blog to force myself to be accountable, reply to an email or respond to a text. Words do not come easily.

TOO MANY WORDS are a requirement for living these days.

I woke up feeling my feelings very deeply one recent morning. They were so deep and so heavy. I did one right thing. I did NOT turn on the TV or computer to numb myself out of what I was feeling. I simply allowed myself to feel my feelings and let myself sink into the abyss.

I did cheat. I sent off a few messages which resulted in hearing the words I most needed to hear which was followed up with a conversation with someone who has known me long enough to know who I truly am and likes me anyway, which allowed me to say the words I was feeling out loud .

Days have unfolded since then and as I look at what brought me to my knees that particular morning, it feels like a non-event. I have resumed life-as-I-know-it and the heaviness I felt in that moment has lifted. 

If I hadn't let myself succumb to those emotions at the time, I would have forgotten the entire incident. Enter the addiction of the new world. Numbing. Tuning out one's thoughts and losing them to one's addiction of choice. Food, alcohol, scrolling, drugs, Netflix and any number of mind numbing activities you can think of.

Back in the "old days", I would take a morning such as the one I just described and I would have done one of a number of things. I would have cleaned, gone outside or wrote. Whatever activity I may have chose, I would have sunk into my thoughts and listened to myself. In a reflective, healing and cathartic way.

Whether I walked, worked, sat in a sun beam or toiled at some menial household task, I would have let myself THINK.

I have stopped thinking. 

I miss my thoughts. I miss my old self. I miss the light that follows the darkness.

I just read that a person needs three things be happy. Someone to love. Something to do. Something to hope for.

As the thought of my children moving out and on with their lives in distant locations; followed by the "knowing" I have that my employment relies heavily on people who are well into their 80's; and the loss of a dream on the horizon ... I am not looking too far into the future right now.

Something to hope for.

Seems like a small step in a positive direction. Hope. Faith. Trust that "we are exactly where we are meant to be" ...

Everything is going to be okay. Things always works out. I have faith in what I don't yet know. It will all be okay.

It will all work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it is not yet the end. 

Three Bonus Days

February was quite literally the shortest month I have ever experienced. 

Not only was the month cut short by the extra two to three days we are accustomed to, but two of those precious days were Saturday and Sunday. All of my month end deadlines had to be met on or before February 26th.

It was a marathon. When I woke up on the morning of the 26th, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. All my February deadlines had been met.

Then I woke up to March. More deadlines, a never ending line up of work-to-do and continually playing "catch up". A sense of weariness washed over me.

Then I counted the week days March has in store. I have 23 week days to complete the jobs I have on hand. Three bonus days!! 

Eureka! I felt as though I had struck gold.

March marks the beginning of the end of winter. I well remember how I felt when March rolled around when I was daycaring. We would find ways to navigate the mud and grime from the melting snow and we would go outside as much as we could. I would quite literally park myself in a sunbeam and soak up all the Vitamin D I could endure.

March feels different this year.

It marks the one year anniversary of when most of us were impacted by COVID-19. It celebrates the beginning of the end of what could have felt like the longest winter in history. Not only is spring on the horizon but vaccinations and a ray of hope is emerging with the sun.

March will bring its share of surprises, unexpected weather and events. We never know what tomorrow will bring. But can I be very selfish for a moment and add "If you are working within the world of accounting, deadlines and numbers ... you have three extra days to complete your job this month. Yee haw!!"

Then ... we will wake up to April. The month where spring is in the air, the hours of sunshine are far exceeding those of moonlight, dreams of summer are on the horizon and (yes) income taxes are due to be filed.

Deadlines make the world go 'round. It is the world's way to help us appreciate those bonus days whenever we can.

It Ain't Over Til It's Over

 Need I say more?

P.S. During our 16 hour window of running water, we managed to shower; wash a load of clothes; run the dishwasher and have a bath. The end. The saga continues ...

Revelling in the Moment

My desire to write out loud has diminished along with my ambition, motivation and joy factor. As I woke up to a bright and shiny Saturday morning I felt a glimmer of all of the above return. Do I dare wonder why? Or do I simply revel in the moment?

I think I shall do a little of each.

What is right in the world today? The longest months of winter are behind us. Days are lengthening, the sun is getting a little stronger, we are on the other end of a cold snap and the sky has been blue for several days running.

Deduction: Sunlight matters. 

What have I done to make a difference? I have knocked several big jobs off my to-do-list within my job and personal commitments. I managed to accomplish several small tasks on the home maintenance list before the weekend [it may only be washing a few loads of laundry and vacuuming but I still call that a win right now]. All errands are run, the car is filled with gas, my personal accounting/books are up to date and our grocery supplies have been replenished.

Deduction: A sense of accomplishment matters.

Who have I spent time with? I am not alone. I share a roof with my adult child and two cats, for whom I am eternally grateful. I have a nice rotation of friends and family who I have semi-regular phone visits with. People who I miss visiting in person are on the other end of the phone line during this long spell of relative isolation. Our phone calls are the next best thing to "being there". The telephone connection has been a godsend.

Deduction: People and relationships matter.

What thoughts are going through my mind at this very moment? Gratitude. Simple and easy gratitude. For every milk, juice and container I emptied this morning, there was a replacement item sitting in its place. Functioning electricity is keeping our food frozen and our toes warm. My old and reliable car is getting me where I need to go. The roof over our heads is weathering all the conditions of the world around us and our city is providing all the services we need to keep our homes running as we expect.

Deduction: Appreciation and thankfulness matter.

How are we managing on all things health related? I know we are beyond blessed. I feel as fit as a fiddle [what an odd saying ... how does a fiddle stay fit?]. Family and friends are doing okay. This is a gift no matter what the time and place but as we continue to endure the-year-of-COVID, sustained good health is a global matter. Money can buy a lot of things, it can make a huge difference in countries where public health coverage is not a given but in matters of life and death money cannot buy a cure.

Deduction: Good health makes all the difference in the world.

The cycles of life ... the seasons ... the moon ... the hills and valleys of living life ... what we are living changes moment by moment. 

I am grateful for the return of the sun, the position of the moon, the fact I have made it to this particular plateau where I can simply sit and enjoy the view for a while. I hope to utilize this renewal period in a fashion where it continues to grow. 

My wish for you is the same. No matter where you may be on your own particular mountain, please tread carefully, stay safe, rest as needed, and when you are able, take the next forward step. ONE small step at a time gets us where we need to be. May you reach your next plateau, enjoy the view and continue on your journey. One small step at a time.

Sit with me and revel in the moment. No matter where you are, recapture your inner child where you simply see, feel, hear and breathe in the moment. The moment may bring you joy, it may break the façade you are portraying to the world and bring you to tears. Honor the moment no matter what it brings. Feel your feelings, let go of the need to be someone you think you should be. Just be "you". 

Just for this moment. Just revel with me ...