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 ... 

Accidental Kick Start to the Day

My son (who is car pooling with someone who picks him up almost every day) looked up and said, "I haven't heard from my ride this morning". I replied, "Do you need a ride?" Him, "Dunno".

I shot up like a flash, had a quick bath and was getting dressed when my son told me his ride was awake and I was off the hook.

So I was dressed and ready to go an hour and a half earlier than I have managed to force myself to move this entire week.

My procrastination skills are becoming very finely honed. That is a habit I know I should kick.

I enjoy the comfort and ease of this relaxed way of living. Is it truly relaxing though? When the to-do and should-do and would-like-to-have-done lists grow and gnaw at me, am I really relaxed?

 ...

I wrote that paragraph, stopped in my tracks, cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the upstairs, changed out all the towels, made my lunch, checked into my son's student health insurance coverage and started the car.

No, leading a procrastinated life is not comfortable. There are always a minimum of ten must-do items on my list of things-to-be-done. The only way out of that conundrum is to DO something. Anything.

I woke up a half hour earlier. I got dressed for the day an hour earlier. I have a tidy home to come home to at the end of the day and I still have time to return bottles on my way to work.

I need to get in the habit of automatically kick starting my day. It is the only way out, through and beyond this habit of procrastination.

And I'm off...

Writing While the Car Warms Up

Quick!! Name everything you are grateful for in the time it takes to warm up the car:

1. A car that starts!
2. Spare socks (I am entering the holy season - the season where all of my socks become holey)
3. Flexible work hours 
4. Wednesday
5. Daylight (there is a little more of it each day)
6. Blue sky (it is bitterly cold but the sky is blue - it helps)
7. Cats (no matter how grumpy I feel, they always bring a smile to my face)
8. Computers/internet (all I need to know and find out is a few finger strokes away)
9. Peace within (within our home, my heart, my life, my entire little world)

That is good enough for now. My day should have started 5 minutes ago...

Missing ...

I set out to write "Missing Her" as the title to this post. It has been five months since Mom took her last breath here on earth. A year ago she was diagnosed with bile duct cancer. Seven months knowing what fight Mom was fighting. Five months of living without her. There is little to compare.

While she was still here, we could talk with her, hear her voice, her stories and her many, many poems, quotes, lyrics and adages which she brought out to share with us whenever life warranted it. I could have started writing down her quotes last January and had enough to compose a book by September. Yes, she had that many quotable quotes. And more.

While she was with us, we banded together as a family. We presented a united front. We each did what we did best. Everyone's "super power" was different. But we each had something. We carried each other just as much as we supported and were present for Mom.

It's been five months. Five months. Her home is gone...

This morning, I had a dream about all of us being together in her home. We pretty much knew it would be our last time. We were together, we were in that safe little bubble where it was just the four of us (Mom and Dad's four children) and no one else. We were breaking out of the bubble and going back into the real world.

We knew we would be sad when the house was gone. But it was still in "our" possession. So we tabled our sadness for another day.

Wait. It wasn't a dream.

We did all that. We said all of those things. We walked through that moment less than four months ago. But it felt fresh and new in my dream.

Even after Mom was gone, it brought comfort to me each and every time I returned to her home. Even when she wasn't there. The walls spoke to me. There has been such a camaraderie among us as we walked through life together. Mom's home holds so many of those memories.

The walls embraced me just as much as they could but I knew everything important was still with me. Within my heart, my soul and my entire being. Letting go of the house was right. The timing was as perfect as one could hope for. We had time to linger between "then" & "now" and the house didn't have to sit alone for too long. It was time to let go.

I woke up this morning with the remnants of my dream wafting through my subconsciousness.

As much as I miss finding Mom on the other end of a phone call or a five hour drive, I miss the closeness our family shared when we walked that final walk. Together. Holding each other up. One stepping in when another had to step out ...

My son spoke at the small graveside goodbye we had for Mom. He reminded me of the words he spoke not so very long ago. As soon as he repeated them, I remembered what he had said but in the interim, they had drifted from the tip of my consciousness.

He spoke of the night he sat with me and my sister at Mom's dining room table, as we retold the story of the days leading up to and including Mom's admission into the hospital. We were still in the middle of the end at that moment. We were hovering in a space where you think things could go either way. But in our hearts, we knew we were in the final count down.

What my son remembers from all the words we spoke that evening, was the way each one of us stepped in, stepped up, supported, relieved and team-tagged each other throughout the days that led up to the morning Mom died.

He was in awe of the way our family worked in a time of duress. It made us strong. United. We had each other's back. We were there for Mom but the behind the scenes image of Mom and Dad's family was the strength we received from each other.

I started this post with the title "Missing Her" in mind. Yes, I miss being able to talk with Mom. But I miss those moments of strength I found with my family in equal or greater proportion.

Life is moving on. And I can't say I'm a really big fan of that. I want to run out to Mom's and just "be there" like I was last year. 

But I can't. And I won't. 

So I just feel like a part of me is missing this morning. I'm not quite sure where to look for it but I feel it would come to me if I would sit still and quiet for long enough. 

Maybe that is why I am resenting my work weeks so much. Maybe.

Or maybe I am just feeling very weak and vulnerable out here on my own. This is not exactly where I want to be right now. 

But I must warrior on. And I will.

My Monday Morning Soundtrack

The music and lyrics from the song "Just another Manic Monday" are streaming through my head this morning.

♪♫ Why can't it still be Sunday. My I don't have to run day...♪♫

My mind wanders to those who are holidaying or embarking on a holiday and the chorus from "Margaritaville" becomes my new Monday morning theme song.

♪♫ Wasted away in Margaritaville .... lookin' for my lost sugar and salt. ♪♫

Yes, I see my rendition of the mis-worded lyrics makes me sound like I want to cook something. And that couldn't be further from the truth.

I just want to escape somewhere. But I don't have a passport and ♪♫ it's my own damn fault.♪♫

♪♫ I like Pina Coladas. I could walk in the rain ... ♪♫

But I have to face up to my reality. I must work. It is my lot in life.

♪♫ Workin' 9 to 5 ... what a way to make a living.♪♫ Sigh ...  

 I'd better make myself a cup of "ambition" and head off into my work week. 

Cause it's ♪♫ just another Manic Monday!♪♫

It All Started With a Bag of Chips

I seem to be reneging on my promise to exercise, write more and eat better. And I was doing so well for a while!! Rats. Where did I go wrong?

As long as nothing unexpected deterred me from my original plan, I did better. Not perfect, but better.

An overnight snowfall; the need to leave the house earlier than anticipated; a night out (resulting in exhaustion the next morning); doing the "hard things" at the END of a day. And those are only a few of the reasons I have been using to justify my ways.

My excuses are plentiful. I have more. It all boils down to what sounds like a whiny child's voice inside of my own head as I explain my way out of doing what I had originally set out to do.

Or did it all start to go south when I bought that bag of chips?? Let me check...

I bought a bag of chips on January 25th. I woke up to snow to shovel on the 26th and shovelled instead of exercising. The weekend which followed was an unrelenting litany of excuses as to why I didn't feel like exercising, writing, reaching out to the world around me or doing anything productive at all.

I've been making excuses ever since.

This morning's "excuse" was that I had to be at my destination before I am normally out the door. Obviously, there was no time to exercise. So I decided to sleep in to ensure I didn't have time to work in a shower either. A quick bath would be good enough...

I got together with my birthday buddy for coffee this morning. It felt sooooo hard to get there. But the moment we started visiting, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. Sharing "real conversation" with a friend I've known for forever (or at least 17 years).

Why was did the mere idea of this feel so hard?

Am I suffering a potato chip hangover? It all started with that renegade bag of chips I bought on a whim one Thursday evening (so I could have a snack while I watched Grey's Anatomy and Scandal later that evening).

Yes. It is the chip's fault. I had nothing to do with this.

Honestly?!? It's Only Thursday?

I've done all the hard things:

1. I woke up
2. I got out of bed
3. I cleaned cat litter
4. I changed cat water
5. I threw a load of clothes in the washer
6. I made lunch
7. I made and drank my morning smoothie
8. I threw that load of clothes in the dryer
9. I changed the furnace filter
10. I had a bath and got dressed
11. I started the car

There. I've done 11 impossible things before lunch. Can it be Friday Saturday now??