Coming Back Down to Earth Again

This "not holidaying" is hard work. And a tad expensive.

July is only half over and I've flown across the country for a small reunion of a meaningful kind (with Mom, my uncle and my cousin). Then we all reunioned again the following weekend, within a gathering of over one hundred.

I've spent money with abandon, panicked for a few short moments here and there when I was a little bit afraid there would be a shortfall but when I stopped and tallied things up, there was always enough. Always.

I spent time and energy when I had it. When I was depleted, I rested. I am good at resting. I'm so grateful for my ability to stop and recharge my batteries when they start to run low.

There have been days that have not been long enough. There didn't seem to be enough hours in the day as I tried to do all I wanted to do before both of these reunions. Then while I was reunioning, the days didn't feel long enough to visit as much as I hoped to visit.

There have been highs and there have been lows. The high of getting where we hoped to go and seeing who we wanted to see. The low of returning home to life as I know it.

As I drove back home from our last reunion, I felt my heart sink. The excitement levels took a crash. Not of epic proportions, but I recognized the feeling. "What now?" seemed to be a lingering thought from my past, as I drove away from the good stuff and headed back to the place I love most. Home.

Was it because I drove home alone, after days of social interaction? I love being alone. I enjoy thinking my own thoughts without the distraction of other words, other people and other obligations.

"Why so low?" I quietly wondered to myself.

The closer I got to home, the better I felt. Suddenly I was focused on what awaited me at home. Sorting through the memories, putting words to them, documenting them, looking at the few pictures I did take.

Responsibilities awaited me. Real life was at the end of my road and I didn't have a choice but to shake myself out of my doldrums. There were still things to do; people, cats and a house to tend to; and a job to wake up to the next morning.

It would have been so easy to simply coast into the low that follows the high, if life didn't demand more of me.

What if I didn't have those responsibilities at the end of my fun? What if I didn't feel like I had a purpose and could just go home and coast some more? Would that be a good thing? For me??

I thrive on "purpose". I excel at "doing nothing". But doing nothing isn't good for me.

I'm grateful to have a life where I can't coast for excessive periods of time. It can be done, but only in moderation.

No matter how much or how little I have to do, I seem to do better when I squeeze my to-do-list in between the cracks of busyness.

Now all I have to do is rest up and recouperate so I'm ready for my week of holidays when they arrive. A holiday with no plans whatsoever. This could be good. It could be bad. Time will tell. But for now, "nothing" sounds very good indeed.

A Day That Took My Breath Away

Where do I begin? A seed was planted (about) a year and a half ago. It took root and has been growing ever since. This past weekend, it was like a peony plant that suddenly burst into bright technicolor.

On the day of her mother's funeral, one of my cousins gently prodded me and another family member into the idea of planning a family reunion. This past weekend, she told me the idea came from the fact that her mom's side of the family had a reunion every three years. It had been twenty three years since our family had a reunion.

It was time.

Our family has reached the stage where we don't have the excuse of weddings to bring us together in happy times. Two funerals within two months reminded us of how much we enjoyed being together. We were in need of a reason to get together for a happy occasion.

That was this past weekend.

I arrived well after the party started Friday night. By the time I had arrived, supper was long over and everyone was outside enjoying the evening and the easy company of family.

I sat back and took in the view. I felt the energy. I inhaled the moment and it was great. I sat back quietly and thought of how absolutely "right" it felt to be together. Family enjoying family, getting to know family, the new generation getting a taste of the family connections we have been fortunate enough to appreciate as long as I have a memory.

I thought of the "missing generation". Those who are in and around the ages of my own children. Those who didn't choose to come (mostly) because they didn't know anyone.

"How will you get to know people if you don't come?" was one response to that age old feeling I know only too well.

"The word re-union means you are re-uniting with people you know" was one of the missing family member's responses.

From that point onward, I thought of our family reunion as a "family union" and I set out to try to get to know those who I don't know well, better.

I succeeded on some levels. I took the opportunity to talk one-on-one with so many cousins who I have gotten to know on a quick email basis. It was so nice to sit down and enhance some of those quick conversations which led me to "know" I wanted to know that person better.

I talked with second cousins I knew by name only. I had my childhood memory of sitting back and thinking these girls were sooo pretty and nice. I remembered their smiles and the twinkle in their eyes. I had no idea who they really were. I didn't speak in those days. I sat back quietly, watched and absorbed. Suddenly I was greatful for that one small memory because that was the launching pad which I used, to get to know these second cousins just a little bit this past weekend.

I have regrets. There was another family who does not even exist within my childhood memories. More second cousins who I didn't even know by name. Even as I write this, I had to back track to figure out there was the same degree of separation between us. But without that one small childhood memory to use as a catalyst to a conversation, I barely realized who they were and I had no idea what to say.

It is hard to start that conversation. Okay now, who are you and who am I to you? And once we figure that out, where will our conversation go? My only regret is the conversations I didn't have.

Suddenly I was in the shoes of the "missing generation". The generation of second cousins without the childhood memory to launch them into a conversation with someone they not only don't know, but have no memories to connect and unite them, let alone re-unite.

My own children would have been at a gathering of cousinhood with all the "once removed" and "second" and "third" descriptors. I fully understand their hesitation over coming. You kind of "need" your base family group of people-you-know-well to launch you into new and unknown territory.

Re-unioning is an up close and personal set of stories. Unioning is something (I think) we all have a little more trouble with.

There were oh-so-many up close and personal conversations this past weekend. I love re-hearing the words as they waft up to my consciousness as I remember the days past.

Re-unioning is fun and easy. Unioning is akin to starting a new job where you walk in and everyone and everything is a stranger to you.

Re-unioning is like stepping into an old job you know well and running with it. Unioning is learning the ropes but discovering the connections of what-you-already-know and how it applies to all-you-are-learning.

"Blood is thicker than water" is a quote my mom has cited time and time again. It is so true. But I cannot help but think of the relatives I did not get to know this past weekend and I wish I had done better.

It was a wonderful re-union. The new unions? I didn't do so well in that area. It is hard to get to know brand new people in a large setting. It is so busy, so overwhelming and there are so many people to feel like you have the focus required to get to know the one person in front of you when there are about ninety others in your midst.

Yet among all the reunioning and unioning there was one "union" that transpired which was meant to be. It is not my story to tell but it is a story I know well and I feel and care deeply about both parties. They met, they talked and they connected at this reunion.

If for no other reason than that one "union" alone, I classify this reunion a success of all successes.

The sun that set upon our day of great connections and reconnections was a piece of art. It was as if all those who were not with us here on earth said "good night" with the only language they had.

It was a breathtaking sunset on a day that took my breath away.

As I drove home yesterday, I felt like I was raking up the petals of a peony bush which lost its splendor as quickly as it bloomed. There was a crash of disappointment as the weekend wound down and I drove towards "real life" again.

Like the peony that loses its splendor as quickly as it comes, the memory of this past weekend and the deep roots within our family will remain green and vital until it "blooms again" within the renewed connections we have made and will continue to build on as life goes on.

Growing Pains

I am not a stranger to the wide world of cat ownership. Ever since I moved into a house that was my own, without rules and regulations governing pet ownership, I have had cats. 

I've had lots of cats. Most of them have been male. Very few of those males came into my life in an "unaltered state". In an effort to do my part in keeping the cat population regulated, I have had my male cats neutered. 

Once, I took my male and female cat in for their neuter/spay surgery the same day. The female came home and was completely out of commission for a while. The male cat spryly went about his business as usual and as far as I remember, he just laughed in the female cat's face as he flaunted the ease with which it was to be a male.

Yup, I had it in for "males" after that. They get off so easy in comparison to us female counterparts.

That said, I also discovered I liked the easy going manner of my male cats and the female cats I had reminded me of myself. A little bit neurotic, nervous and high maintenance. 

Yes, I got over my thing about males and decided their cool, laid back demeanour was one I favored. I am enough female for one household (just ask my three children).

Enter our New Cat, Jet. 

Jet came to us in an "unaltered state" and we wanted to remedy that as soon as possible. My youngest was eager to get this done immediately because she had never had an unneutered male cat and was concerned this may affect his need to dominate our (previously) Only Cat. That, and she was worried about "spraying". I must admit I shared this concern.

Long story short, when I booked our New Cat's surgery I didn't realize it landed during the time I was going to be away until I went to write it on the calendar. I could have easily changed the appointment date but without hesitation, my youngest said she would take our cat to this appointment.

We had many text conversations after the surgery:

"Just got Jet back now and settled. He's got his cone and being very pathetic. I have to limit his food and keep him from running or jumping and I've got to give him the pain killer tomorrow and Saturday."

"He's fine now, he really didn't like the cone, he got it off about four times before I finally got it on him properly. I'm supposed to limit his food but he was reaaaly hungry. Also brought out the no-tip bowl so he could eat comfortably. He is finally resting on my bed and seems at ease."

We had several more "conversations" involving swelling, one more trip to the vet to ensure the swelling was not out of the ordinary, litter box accidents due to the fact the cone on Jet's head seemed to affect his ability to judge the space he required to do his business, vomit and a few other stressed out moments over the course of the next few days.

I drove home from Mom's as early as I possibly could (after one final text about the alarm going off in the middle of the night due to a power outage and the last I heard, my youngest and the cats were all nestled in safely in her room). 

This "growing up" and "being responsible" business is hard. And nerve wracking. And scary.

My youngest is seventeen years old. She has led a quiet and sheltered life. I have run interference for her when the chips are down and she really hasn't had a great deal of stress, other than homework, exams and school work.

She wasn't prepared for this. But she survived.

It was hard being on the other side of the country as my youngest faced adult responsibilities on her own. There was nothing life threatening or earth shattering going on. She was simply nervous and overwhelmed and (I think) tired of being the one responsible for another living being's well being.

Yes, I know the feeling well. "I'm in over my head and I need a little help here!"

I've been there and done that. And when I was seventeen (going on eighteen) I needed a lot of help. 

I was two months older than my youngest is right now, when I got married. 

I was three and a half months shy of turning eighteen when I had my first child.

I needed help. And my mom stepped up to the plate and took over for a while when I was not capable.

Yes, I overreacted. I wanted to bail my youngest (and our cat) out. I wanted to be there. But I couldn't. If it had been an emergency, I could have come home. I had several people she could call if it had been an emergency. But it wasn't.

It was just hard. Really hard (at the moment).

The logical side of my brain was telling me this was okay. It would actually be good for her to walk through hard things on her own and find her own way through. This was not an emergency. It was just uncomfortable and inconvenient.

I walked in the door at the end of my five day absence and expected everyone to "need" me. They didn't.

I came home to a calm, cool and collected (and a little wiser and more mature) young person.

I came home to a little black cat looking slightly pathetic but mostly resigned to the restrictions his "cone of shame" provided.

I came home to two happy cats, who had been well loved, well fed and everything was under control.

By the time I walked in the door, all I had to do was sit back and listen to the stories. I wish my youngest would have "written a little blog about it" because her words were priceless. She painted a picture in my mind with the words she used.

She started with the way our New Cat looked and felt when he came home after this life-altering surgery. My youngest said he plopped down on the floor and looked up at him as if to say, 

"My life is over..."

Well, our kitty is in fine form and my youngest took one step into adulthood.

You don't grow when life is comfortable, easy and someone else is taking care of your worries.

You grow and evolve when life gets messy, complicated and uncomfortable.

Life doesn't end when you walk in your door with that little ball of fur (or bouncing baby boy). It is only just beginning. 

You grow and learn with each and every uncomfortable, messy (and smelly) step. 

Life and love is not all sunshine and roses but after you weather some rainy weather, you are better prepared for the storms. 

In the end, you don't focus on the rain. You remember the rainbow and the sweet smell of rain in the air (or the fresh scent of Febreeze after the mess is cleaned up).

Focus on the sunshine but be grateful for the knowledge you have weathered some turbulent weather and survived. 

Be satisfied with the knowledge that you did it once and you can do it again. Because life has a way of helping you grow and expand your horizons whether you like it or not.

Life is full of "growing pains".

To-Do-Lists Are Boring

I had so many thoughts, words and ideas wafting through my brain on my drive home from Mom's a few days ago that I grabbed my phone and recorded them so I could write about them "the minute I got home".

Best laid plans.

You know how it is, when you walk in the door and life is sitting there waiting to greet you? Well that is how it was for me.

My Youngest Son had so many stories to tell about the trials, tribulations, worries, frustrations and cat tales while I was away. He should have written a blog about it.

My favorite line? He was telling me about bringing our New Cat home after his day (neuter) surgery and how New Cat just plopped down at the floor and looked up at my son with eyes that said, "My life is over."

We sat and chatted until the words ran out. When they did, I had unpacking and a lot of catching up to do. I had the entire day to do all that needed to be done so I just plugged along at an easy pace and did no more than I wanted to do.

Thus, I did nothing extra. All the extra stuff to do was sitting and staring me in the face when I woke up Monday morning. I have been doing "that stuff" ever since.

My to-do-list is shrinking. But I won a bonus day/evening. Mom will be arriving a day later than expected so I have an entire evening to tie up all loose ends before she arrives late the next afternoon. That bonus day felt akin to winning a lottery.

So last night I took my son to get a hair cut, then came home and went to bed.

Ahhhh. Sleep.

Sleep, added to one bonus day/evening combo equals a renewed spirit this morning. I could write about all the things I want to try to squeeze into the next few days but that is about as boring as reading a grocery list.

I am looking forward to the quiet that follows the rush of activity. Time to process all I have felt, seen and lived should equal something a little bit deeper than a to-do-list.

But this is all I've got for now. And really? It is a lot. Keeping my mind active equals "happy" to me. It is the quiet that gets me into trouble.

Happy Wednesday. May your mind have an actively content day today!

Reigniting the Spark

I am quite looking forward to some "wasted days" sometime in the near future. My mind has been busy tending to the details of life for a few weeks now and it is rather exhausting.

Our family is having another reunion this upcoming weekend and I seem to have volunteered myself to take care of a few things. My challenge is to be done everything I need to do before Mom arrives in two days. Once she is here I need to make my job look as simple as packing a bag and leaving.

Thus, I cannot turn off my brain at the moment.

This is good though. I completely shut down when asked to bake or cook or do anything that resembles my day job.

One of the things the reunion committee needed was someone to come up with games for the kids. "NOT me!!" was all I could think as I felt more doors in my brain slam shut. I cannot volunteer to cook, bake or take care of children when I am off the clock. I can do "all of the above" but please don't expect it of me.

Ask me to do something a tiny bit "creative" and come up with a photo montage of our family and I'm all over that. It doesn't even feel like work.

As I drove home from Mom's a few days ago, my mind was full of thoughts, words and ideas. I came home and actually acted on a few of them.

There don't seem to be enough hours in the day lately. I like feeling like this. I've missed it.

I excel at doing nothing. But I feel better when I am required to tap into my creative juices. Something inside of me has come back to life. The question is, how do I keep this spark alive when I'm not trying to beat a deadline.

Following My Heart

Be it ever so humble, I am so glad to be home.

Mom and I just returned from a four day holiday to visit my uncle (Dad's brother) and my cousin. It was a trip I feel I was destined to take.

From the time my uncle couldn't make it to our family reunion this past fall, I knew I wanted to go to him. When Mom had her own health concerns this past winter, I knew I wanted her to come along with me.

There were moments this past winter when I didn't know what our future would bring. I just knew I wanted to dream past the moment and invite Mom along for the ride. I wanted her by my side when I followed that dream.

The "dream", was this trip.

I am quite likely the last person on earth who should be spending their money so "foolishly" on things I cannot hold onto.

But as our house is filled to overflowing with "things", I know for sure that I do not want to invest in material belongings. I want to invest in my future. And at this very moment in time, my future feels dependent on doing the right things right now.

I came home from our trip, tallied up the expenses and (as always) there is enough sitting in my bank account to cover what I just spent.

I added my Las Vegas trip onto this Ontario trip and I see that I could have most likely bought doors and a living room window with the money I spent. I could have spent that money on something tangible and real. And something our house really could use. But I know in my heart of hearts, I invested my money wisely.

I invested in "the present".

Right now, right at this moment, I had the opportunity to invite my sister and my mom along on my little "adventures". Life can change in a New York Minute. These opportunities don't last forever.

Right now, right at this moment, my uncle is here and (hopefully) at a place where he appreciated and enjoyed some company from "home".

Mom has said on numerous occasions, that Dad's brothers are like brothers to her. This particular brother (my uncle) and Mom have a friendship that transcends "all". I think he knows Mom in a way no one else does. I think it was important for them to see each other and talk with no one else around.

Our family is having another reunion within days and my uncle and my cousin are planning to attend. We would have seen them anyway. But we wouldn't have had this opportunity to visit. Not the way we just did.

This was the right thing to do. I know it with every fibre of my being.

I heard some hesitancy within Mom's words in the weeks that preceded our departure. I thought she wanted to back out. This would not have been right, if it had not been Mom's choice to join me. But in the end she told me "Let's just go ahead with 'Plan A' ". And we did.

I asked her on our way home if she was glad we went. She said she was. I believe her.

When you feel something strongly, go where that feeling takes you.

When doors open easily and help you make your way without obstacles or detours, let that be a sign that you are headed in the right direction.

Follow where your heart takes you and prepare to be amazed.

Look ahead and enjoy the view. We just never know where the next road may take us ...

Sitting in the back seat, looking at the back of my uncle and Mom's heads, I had the feeling of being a little kid,
tucked safely in the back with Dad at the wheel and Mom at his side,
this view was one I had felt and seen before...

It'll Just Have to Do

As I prepared for a little getaway with my mom, I thought my to-do-list wasn't all that big. "No big deal" is what I thought a few weeks ago. I'll pack my bags, pick up and go. Just like Mom. Easy peasy.

Except first of all, I had to drive out to Mom's. So I would have to check the fluid levels, fill up the car and (oh ya) maybe I should replace that windshield wiper that seemed like it was falling off the last time it rained.

No biggy. I should be doing these things anyway.

Then I ended up booking our New Cat's neuter surgery for while I was away. I could have easily changed it, only my son told me he had no problem with taking our cat in for this surgery in my absence.

It should have been just that simple. Only I wanted to ensure everything was in order before I left. So I called the vet's office and faxed the paperwork they required, only to find out that he needed one more shot and he needed a more thorough deworming before his surgery.

That entailed one (more) trip to the vet and while I was there, I prepaid them for his surgery. So now it would be as easy as dropping him off and picking him up.

Then there were the little things. Like ensuring Mom had "government issued photo ID" and that she knew about the limitations on packing liquids and gels in her carry-on luggage. Then maybe we should take some Gravol along with us (since both of us are prone to car sickness), so I asked her for all of the medications she took (which is good to have on hand anyway) so I could check with a pharmacist to ensure there would be no adverse reactions to taking Gravol with the medication she is on.

Then I thought of leaving my Youngest Son on his own. I should be a good mom and ensure he has some easy-to-microwave suppers ready for him. Long story short? He may eat better while I'm away, than he does when I'm here. Not to mention the fact that we had three good meals in a row prior to my leaving. This whole "cooking business" is just not my cup of tea and takes an extraordinary amount of energy for me to accomplish.

The lawn had to be mowed anyway, so I strategically timed it with a good time to wash my hair one last time before we left. I thought I may as well vacuum the basement while I was feeling so sweaty. It is a sad state of affairs when one has to add "shower" to their to-do-list-before-I-go. It is what it is.

Then came the date of departure. It should have been as easy as tossing a few items into a suitcase and zipping it closed.

Except I found myself with a nice little to-do-list. Print our boarding passes; contact our B & B to ensure they knew we wanted to check in early (since they did not reply to either the email I sent two days prior, nor the phone message I left one day prior). Sure enough, when I called the person answering the phone acted as if all this was brand new news to her [insert a feeling of skepticism about the customer service here]. Leave contact phone numbers of where we will be while I'm gone for my son (what if I lost my cell phone??).

Oh ya, and then there was the group email I forwarded for our reunion committee and dealing with a few of the responses after sending that off. And columns. And banking. And ensuring my son had a list of people who he could contact in case of emergency.

Then, I worried about packing. Which meant washing everything in sight, washing my sheets and basically turning a little job into a big one.

I just happened to have to take care of five little people, under the age of four while I was doing "some of the above" and one of my daycare parents looked at me with compassion and understanding and said, "... and if you are like me, you like to leave your house all clean too."

I told her I used to be like that. Whenever I left the city, I cleaned the house like it was the last time I may clean it because "What if I died while I was away?"

Well? I have evolved.

I told this mom that if I died while I was gone, I hoped anyone looking through my belongings after-the-fact would be proud of me and say, "She sure had her priorities straight. She didn't waste her time here on earth cleaning!"

I am writing this before I leave and scheduling it to be published by the time I return home. The reason I do this is because I want to leave a message to any of my survivors, if I do not make it back.

"Please be happy for the time I did NOT spend cleaning. My personal and financial effects are easy to recognize and other than that? Please take that "accidental death benefit" they have in place when you buy a plane ticket with your credit card, and spend it on hiring someone to pack up the house, clean it up and please don't judge me. I did what I could while I was here and housecleaning just fell to the bottom of my to-do-list."

I could be wrong, but it is what it is. It'll just have to do.