Living in a Bubble Wrapped World (or is it simply a "force field"?)

Is it just me, or is there anyone else out there who believes they live a rather charmed life? Protected from life's bumps and bruises and walking/driving away from what could have been rather catastrophic without as much as a scratch?

I lead such a life. As I wrote the above paragraph, my "protected life" flashed before my life in the moments when, for some unknown reason, I was saved from an accident of many sorts. I live such a charmed life, I sometimes wonder if I'm making up the whole thing in my mind ...

Anyway, I thought it was just "me". But apparently my car is living in a bubble wrapped world.

My boss drove her car for the first time in four months yesterday. I begged her to let me drive her but she is determined in a **"Margaret" sort of way. There was absolutely nothing I could say or do to deter her. But she did agree to me accompanying her to her car and seeing her drive off independently.

I then watched her drive out of the underground parking, turn onto the road and I knew she was on her way.

"Hmmm," I said to the person-I-didn't-know who was standing beside me as I watched my boss drive off, "My car is right between those two police cars and the fire truck with its lights flashing, across the street. I wonder if it's okay?"

I may be the only human being on earth who would do what I did. But I did it and didn't even question it until the end of my work day.

Whatever had happened had already happened. There was nothing I could do to undo it. And I had soooo much work to do and only hours to do it in. I turned around, went back to work and never thought about it again until my boss described the "accident scene" and the blockage of traffic right where my car was parked. Four hours after I had first witnessed the firetruck and police vehicles surrounding my car.

I shake my head, wondering what in the world I was thinking, to just walk away from what could have been my car in its time of need ...

Anyway, with my work day officially behind me, I finally went downstairs, crossed the street and told the police officers who were on the case, "That is my car..."

"Don't worry, it's not damaged", was their immediate reply. "Was it the cause of the accident?", I asked. Immediately feeling like my car must have somehow been to blame, as I saw for the first time, the car which had hit a tree and reverberated backwards. All within a foot or so of my car. "No, your car was not at fault" I was assured.

I asked if I should drive my car out of their way and they actually asked if it was okay if I left it there for a while longer. My car was part of the accident scene and they had to take pictures from above. No problem, I assured them. I wouldn't be headed for home for another three hours. Then I remembered I promised my aunt we would drive out to Costco. They assured me that I should be able to remove my car from the scene within a half hour.

I immediately went to my aunt's and told her my car's story. "Is it damaged?" she asked. "The police assured me it wasn't", I replied. "Did you look at it yourself?". "No ... it didn't even dawn on me to look at it" (I continue to astound and amaze myself with my head-in-the-sand responses).

While my aunt was completely incredulous that I didn't check out my car with my own eyes, I assured her that the police wouldn't lie to me. "What if it's damaged and you have to make an accident claim?" she continued. I assured her that everything was on record and I was quite certain that an accident that required emergency services to be on the scene five hours after it happened,  would be well recorded.

We walked to the doors at the end of the hall to take in the scene with our own eyes. This was quite literally the first time I had actually stopped to examine the circumstances. We watched the police drone fly over the scene and take all kinds of pictures. Everything had been measured, examined, recorded and from the angle we were looking at things, it seemed beyond amazing that my car hadn't been hit.

As we watched over the police in action, other residents from my aunt's apartment complex came by and filled us in on the details as they knew them. One, was a person who lived in the apartment mere feet away from the tree that was injured in the process. The second, was a person who cared about the tree.

Apparently, a senior lady was the driver of the car. She was taken away by ambulance. People were on the scene within moments of the accident and a police car was on the scene mere minutes after that. I became more concerned about the driver of the car than anything else. I hoped the accident wasn't due to a medical emergency while she was driving and her becoming unconscious.

The benefit of personally knowing people on both sides of the street where this accident occurred, is that I received an update from my boss within the hour. It was one of the residents of her apartment who had been the driver of the car. Apparently, she hit a patch of ice as she drove onto the street and careened into the tree across the street. They took her to the hospital as a precaution but she was fine.

I was so relieved that the driver was okay, I almost forget everything that preceded that moment.

It was only in reflection, that I reflected back on my thought processes as I had parked my car that morning. Initially, I almost stopped exactly in the spot where the car slid across the street and into the tree. Then I remembered the plans I had made with my aunt for later in the afternoon. We had plans to go out, so I crept up closer to the driveway out of her complex thinking it would be easier for her to walk out to the car if I was closer.

I continue to rewind the tape and think of the fact that I would have been directly in the path of the car that slid out of control. I vividly remember creeping up closer to the approach. It was a conscious decision on my part and I talked myself out of parking in the path of impending destruction.

As we gazed onto the scene of the accident, it seemed unbelievable that my car had been spared. Honestly, it was as though it had a "force field" around it and nothing could penetrate it.

My car and I live a charmed life. As I sit here and think of it, I feel the same sense of protection around our home and family.

If one didn't believe in guardian angels before, does this not give reason to ponder and wonder about the forces around us that we cannot see.

I so want to believe I have a guardian angel or two. I feel as though I have an army of angels watching over me at times. It is a great comfort and I am grateful. So grateful ....

**Mom's name is Margaret and she was THE Webster Dictionary definition of "determined"

The Day Before a Long (long) Weekend ...

Yay! I did it! I did it!! Yay! I hear Dora the Explorer singing "We Did It!" as I sing these words aloud in my head.

I want to describe in detail the "mountains" I've climbed, the days I've endured, the math puzzles I have helped decode in the long and winding road until today. I shall spare you the details but I just want to sing aloud "I DID it!!" I have made my way through another long and arduous (four day?!) week. Yay!!

I guess I get to describe myself as semi-retired, don't I? I work for people who say "yes" to everything I ask. My work weeks are flexible. Basically, I work only four days of the week (with my eye on the prize of a "three day" week).

I work like I don't need the money. I am not driven by the almighty dollar and I like it that way. My finances survived a year of being fully available to pick up and leave at any time. I spent money driving to my destination. My pay cheques reflected the lack of working hours. It was a tough year on the budget. But I managed. I always do.

This year, I have no reason to bail out on a work day. Yet I have done so. "I just need [want] a day off of 'everything' ", I would say. And the day was granted. "I need a snow morning [or day, but I settled for a morning]". My wish was granted once again. "I just need to stay home today...". No excuse. No alibi. And the answer was "Yes, and I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?"

I have next to no demands on my free time yet I continue to soak up those moments, savor them and wish for more.

I have found the energy to say "yes" again. I have not yet summoned the energy &/or courage to "ask". But I can say yes. Not all the time. I have some boundaries "Week days deplete me ... can we wait until a weekend please?" Yet, if I don't have to think about it, plan for it, write it down so I don't forget it and arrange my energy levels to survive it, I CAN still say "Yes" to a last minute diversion.

My finances recovered from last year's decline in income and excess in travelling and car expenses. It happened the month after my last trip to Mom's. It was quick. It happened without forethought or budgeting. It was a simple math equation: A regular work week + No extra-curricular travels = A balanced budget, with money left over at the end of the month (which will be absorbed quickly when I receive my income tax statement of accounts).

My energy and ambition levels have not replenished themselves quite as quickly. I feel like a sponge that cannot absorb water and all the time I have had to try to replenish my energy levels has felt like I have been filling a pail with a hole in it.

There IS something that is starting to stir within me though. The ease with which I accepted an invitation and "challenge" to invite others to join in an upcoming lunch date surprised me. Once again, there was no time to think. It was as simple as "Yes!" and "Yes, I will ask the others". I didn't allow myself to think. I just DID it.

Overthinking is (one of) my biggest downfalls. Yet the lack of thinking ahead has paralyzed me into doing absolutely nothing with any of the free time that comes my way.

I need to reform some good habits. Goal setting overwhelms me. Procrastination has overtaken my ability to persevere.

I'm doing the hard stuff. I'm getting out of the house (a challenge unto itself) AND putting in an (almost) full work week. The daily requirements of running a house and keeping on top of laundry, cat chores, (minimal) grocery replenishing and (barely) keeping atop of the cat hair IS being accomplished.

I just need to push myself to do one or two "hard things" per weekend. I'll see what I can do about that. But in the meantime, why all I can think of is how much I want to adopt a border collie puppy AND go on a vacation where I simply sit and absorb nature?

I do believe it is because my Dream Gene is starting to come alive again. Everything good starts with a dream. I feel it coming ...

P.S. I have talked myself out of adopting a puppy until after I satiate my need to vacation AND when I am able to work out of my home again. In the meantime, our fiesty black kitties continue to fulfil my need to battle pet hair and remind me that pet ownership is not all fun and games.

Send Me a Sign ...

She was the wind beneath my wings. 

She was my reason to recap each week in a letter, look for the highlights and send off the best each week could be. 

She was my sounding board, she gave a voice to those who didn't speak the words directly to me. 

She gave me the tools to be the best that I could be. 

She lifted me up and made me feel worthy. 

She fought for me. 

She spoke for me before I learned to speak on my own...

I wrote these words in July, 2011:

"Five years ago, I returned to our home town for a Homecoming reunion. Five years ago, a seed was planted which changed the course of my life. Five years ago, my mom found two of my cousins and an old friend. She gathered us together at a table and we visited as though a lifetime hadn't elapsed since we last talked. 

Little did I know, the chain of events initiated by that moment would alter the course of my life, my thinking, my confidence and my being. Five years ago ... I started to come home."

I have often joked that I didn't start talking until I was 46. After I became chatty, Mom would explain, "She's making up for lost time". We would laugh. I often wondered if I embarrassed her with my excess wordage. I never asked.

Mom was a catalyst to a change within my life that took me to exactly where I am today.

We "co-wrote a few books" together. I was the writer. She was the story teller. But the stories were not hers alone to tell so we invited all of her siblings together to write the memories of her family. Then she stood by my side as I compiled memories from Dad's family to forge their own book.

The feeling of "starting to come home" came full circle as I talked with and got to know Mom and Dad's families. I became deeply rooted within family and the gifts I have received as a result of finding my roots have carried me through and beyond everything life has had to dole out ever since.

This past week has been a tough one.

I took all of Mom's income tax papers and all of my knowledge about the land Dad farmed to the accountant and laid it out before her. We talked of "Capital Gains" and all the technicalities that entails. I didn't know all the answers so I had to reach out. I contacted Dad's family to ask questions I didn't know the answers to. But the biggest gift of all was in the gifts Dad left behind and the fact that Mom saved them for me to open at a later date.

I often state that I have Dad's income taxes "since income tax was invented". But I would be wrong. What I do have is each and every income tax form Dad filed from 1946 until the year he died. One would think that is pretty boring reading. But I held onto them. I kept thinking "there is a story within those papers". And there is.

The second gift I opened was a box of Dad's farm accounting books. His record keeping was meticulous. He recorded everything. Each and every expense, down to the penny. Every dollar earned. Long distance charges, telephone rental, how much he paid his hired hands and notations of all kinds.

My world outside of "Mom and income taxes" was crushing me and I found such comfort in reaching out to Dad's family, immersing myself in Dad's paperwork, grateful for the fact that Mom saved them and the excuse to contact my siblings to update them on the "tax situation at hand".

Give me numbers, black and white problems and accounting any day of the week. It is the messy part of living and working that has become so hard, that I start each morning I must leave our home to go to work with a chant I actually say aloud as I summon my courage to face the day, "You can do this.Yes you can!"

One day in particular this week, I was at my weakest. It took everything I had in me to leave the house and face the day. I sat down in the car, turned it on, looked to the radio and thought loudly, "Mom? Talk [sing] to me..."

I have become super-skeptical about the whole idea of "a presence after death". I want to find signs that Mom &/or Dad are with me. I haven't felt, seen or found what my sisters have spoke of. But what I have found hopeful is the fact that the radio waves seem to send me words when I least expect them. I can't scan the channels and bring these words up at will. They seem to need to find me when I'm not looking. But when the words speak to my heart and sound like something Mom would say, I gaze into the empty space around me and think, "Mom? ..."

Could music and lyrics be the "currency" she uses with me?

My sister told Mom that she heard finding a dime means the spirit of a loved one is watching over you (I could have the exact meaning misconstrued but it is something along that line). Mom knew my sister believed this. My sister found a dime the morning after Mom died. She found another shortly thereafter. She had just found another when we spoke this week. I have no idea how many dimes she has found. I haven't found one. Not one.

Dimes are my sister's "currency". Mom knew this. Hmmmm....

My other sister has commented on knowing Mom is with her. The eagle that came out of nowhere and flew directly in front of her husband when he was driving to our family farm to collect some old barn boards. The two eagles that showed up after our family gathered at our old farm to spread some of Mom's ashes "...it was Mom and she brought Dad along".

I try to be logical and not expect other-worldy communication but my heart would be comforted if I could believe again.

As I spoke with my sister yesterday, I could barely speak the words but I told her I was very skeptical of the belief Mom was still with us but I asked, "What if she could be ... and if she could ... she would "speak" to each us in a way we would hear her and feel her presence?" Dimes for one; eagles; lyrics ... what if?

The morning I asked Mom to "talk" to me via the radio waves, this is what I heard:

"Everybody says "say something"

Say something, say something

Then say something, say something, then say something"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MPbR6Cbwi4

I went to work and I said something. The entire day rotated on its axis. I desperately needed to SAY something. 

Thanks, Mom. You ARE the wind beneath my wings. Thank you for lifting me up and carrying me when I feel too weak to do it on my own.

And the real reason I felt Mom's presence behind the lyrics that told me what I needed to hear? Because the song ended with this line:

"Sometimes the greatest way to say something is to say nothing at all"

That line is straight out of the Book of Mom. I truly believe she did think I talked too much.😊

Spring! At Last!!

Welcome, Spring! You feel like a long, lost friend. I have missed you.

I don't love the early stages of our friendship. The puddles, the mud, the mess and the general untidiness of it all. But I can easily overlook this (especially now that I'm not running a daycare and seeing "mud everywhere" within these thoughts), because I know what is on the horizon.

Earlier mornings. Later evenings. Robins. Signs of the world coming to life again. The sounds of summer are on the horizon. Trees going into bud. The hint of green within the trees which were in hibernation all winter.

Ahhh. It looks like we made it through another winter.

I have felt winter within me for (what feels like) two winters. I keep thinking "spring" is on the horizon and then another "winter storm" hits and I'm down again.

This morning, I am headed off to the accountant to prepare my income taxes and Mom's.

My duties of "executor" will begin to wind down to a halt after today. Everything will be in Revenue Canada's hands once Mom's final return is filed. There are a few more hoops to jump through, forms to be filed and wait for a few final authorizations.

My work here will be done. Soon...

Then what will I do?

I'm not sure. But I'm dreaming of a vacation via rail. I feel ready to dream again. I've missed those dreams. Perhaps even more than I have missed Spring.

Happy Spring to You! May some of those seeds planted long ago come to life and bloom in the summer sun. It's time to come out of hibernation!

Not the Post I Expected to Write...

I was sitting in the middle of a glorious Sunday when I had a flash of the feeling of waking up to "today". STOP!!, I shouted to myself without saying a word. DON'T GO THERE!! I stopped that train of thought before it left the station and was left paralyzed with the knowledge that my weekend hours were numbered.

I woke up this morning and this Goalcast video awaited me: (https://www.facebook.com/goalcast/videos/1780159512061231/)  It was that of a young man who was told he had mere weeks to live without treatment. His message was one of: "be grateful for the people in your life"; "there is no excuse not to live life fully"; "you owe it to your people to go out and do your best". And he ends with "what a fantastic way to start each day".

I am living the dream. I wake up in my warm, comfy bed each morning. I have the ability to:

• spring out of bed
• throw in a load of laundry
• prepare my breakfast/lunch/supper meals for the day ahead 
• sit leisurely in front of my computer and connect to the world all around me...
• ... as I mentally prepare myself for the work day/week ahead of me
• then DRIVE off in my car - to go wherever I need or want to go
• and so much more. So very much more

I am fortunate to have good health, work that not only sustains our way of living but I work for people who nourish my need to learn/make a difference/feel respected. 

I live in a world without fear, I have all I need right here under our own roof. I have not only a house, but a home to return to each and every day.

I am gifted beyond words with my family. The past year put us all in the same arena together and we made a formidable team. We faced life, illness, death and dying as one cohesive unit. I was a useful part of that team. 

I'm feeling a tad lost out here in the world alone again. The "alone" part is that of my own doing. I could be (should be? probably will be one day sometime soon?) inviting people into my days and finding my way again. 

I AM part of a few teams ... I am making a difference in the work I do. I am a vital part of what makes things work. But there is one difference. I don't have the back up unit of "family" to walk through this. Yes, I am supported and supportive. But I am weak when I am on my own doing the things I do. 

I am part of two independent units/families. I know and feel their gratitude and support. But it isn't the same. I'm not part of the family unit. There is a subtle difference when you are on the outside. It is almost unperceptive. But it's there. 

I knew (and still know) my family had my back not only last year but all the years that preceded it. I am in a similar but different set of arenas at the moment. I am where I am, because I am needed. 

I don't know if I have all the tools I need to take me where I need to go. In fact last week, I was reminded of how much I have yet to learn. It just about brought me to my knees.

I see where things are going. There are no happy endings here. 

I knew where things were headed this time last year. There wasn't a happy ending. I knew there wouldn't be. 

Last year, my siblings had my back each and every step of the way. I knew no more about what to do next last year, than I do this year. I just kept showing up. Doing the next right thing. Forgiving myself at the end of each day for the mistakes I made along the way and all that I didn't know. I woke up each morning and simply did my best. Forgave myself regularly. Showed up. Rinse and repeat.

This year, I feel like an island. I have people to turn to for support, guidance and to talk with. But I'm on the outside. It is not my role to lean in and take what I need from my support systems. My role is to relieve their pressure. This is different ...

And I can't run home to Mom's and find some relief. I'm afraid I leaned on Mom during her final year. She heard more than she needed to hear about some of the load I was carrying. 

I have two mother figures in my life but they are not Mom. Man! I miss her today ....

This is not at all what I had in mind when I sat down here with my cup of coffee this morning. I need to get back to the beginning of this post and take what I need from what I learned over at Goalcast:

"Be grateful for the people in your life"

"There is no excuse not to live life fully"

"You owe it to your people to go out and do your best"

"What a fantastic way to start each day"

I am.

I know this.

I do.

It is.

So begins another new day. I'm grateful for this. I will show up. I will do my best. I will forgive myself for any errors of my ways along the way. Rinse and repeat. 

Then I'll do it all over again.

Friday! At Last!!!

The gift of this Time of Great Exhaustion is the elation a weekend brings. I woke up this morning with the refrains "You can do it!" "One last day!" "You are almost there!" chorusing through my mind.

I can DO this! I can work one more day.

What plans do I have? None. All I can say about that is "Yee haw!!!"

All of the hard things are done:

P Hair is washed
P Sheets are clean
P Laundry is done
P House is vacuumed (then again, I could vacuum twice a day with these cats that shed as much as they breathe)
P Groceries vital to our needs are in the house (thought I could buy some option items that would result in the ability to cook a meal)

There are no errands to be run or missions I must accomplish taking up space in my mind. I can make this weekend whatever I need it to be.

There are books to be read. Cats to admire. Sun to be soaked up. Lost items to be found (this eternal game of an "Easter Egg Hunt" could be considered fun if I tricked myself into believing this was a game - not a symptom of me losing my ability to remember where I put things).

My goals for the weekend are vague but I have a few. I will do what I do and call it good enough. Yes, it will be a weekend titled: "Whatever will be, will be good enough!"

Happy weekend to you as well. Here's hoping for a few rays of sunshine ... but happy to simply be able to stay home. There is no place quite like it!

Off to Work Another Day

I watched a short "Goalcast Video" featuring Stephen Hawking on Facebook yesterday morning. I had no idea he had died until I heard it on the evening news. I was suddenly aware of how much of his story I had actually absorbed (I am afraid I'm going through a bit of a "saturated sponge" stage at the moment and an awful lot of important information is not soaking in).

This morning, I found more of his quotes and became more aware of who he was and how he persevered through his health challenges. What I remembered from what I read yesterday is that he was given a prognosis of living two more years (I have since read four to five years - don't quote me on these statistics) when he was diagnosed with ALS. He was determined to make the most of the time he had. He lived 55 years after his diagnosis. And lived those years fully.

Three of Stephen Hawking's most important pieces of advice:

 "One, remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. 

Two, never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it. 

Three, if you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is rare and don't throw it away."

I can't help but think of the words I wrote here yesterday. I was feeling overextended, mentally exhausted and feeling the need to create boundaries to make my current work situation feasible to continue in the long run.

I woke up this morning to read Stephen Hawking's words of advise on work:

"Never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it."

I fully concur. I have often joked that my retirement plan is to work until I die. As the calendar pages fly by and I find myself gainfully employed with no end in sight at the age of 57, I stopped thinking that was funny. I have become overwhelmed with the thought. "I don't want to work forever ..."

I have also realized I need the structure of work, the satisfaction of having completed a feat set out before me and knowing I'm contributing something back into the world around me. I appreciate I have been given the gift of a job that may be the answer to all I am seeking.

I just need to find a way to adjust my thinking and see what control I have over what feels out of my hands at the moment.

My need for organization and "white space" within my work environment is huge. It is very hard to work in an office that is not my own. I have great respect for how others work best and I do not want to overstep my boundaries and organize someone else's work-in-progress.

The idea of eventually working out of my home had my mind fast forwarding the situation at hand, thinking of the day when I would be in control of the clutter, the paper, the excess and my need for a clear and empty work space.

Add the frustration of learning that I have so very much more to learn and no idea how long I may have to learn it and it became the "perfect storm".

I am hyper-aware of how fragile life is. Mom died. She bounced back from everything life threw at her until last year. No one is invincible.

The correlation between losing Mom and the idea of my boss not living forever has created an emotional vortex in my subconscious mind. I try to think logically and act accordingly but my emotions sometimes get the best of me.

Put all of this together and you have my state of mind when I lost my cool at work a few days ago. 

I must walk back into the arena this morning and find a way to regain a sense of control over the situation. I feel like I did back in my daycare days when the challenges at hand made me ask the question "Do you want to quit? Or do you want to fix this?" I chose "fixing" every time (until I quit. Twice). 

I choose to fix this. I know there is a way. 

Ask for what I need - I will offer to work longer hours in lieu of having one weekday off per week.

Organize what I can - at the moment, not only is the work space around me too cluttered to concentrate, but my basket is in a totally "out of control" state.

Ask, learn and absorb - every morsel of information I learn is of utmost importance.

Be grateful for every mistake I make - I need to learn these things. Now. 

Communicate - an open line of communication is the key to everything. I need to talk. I need to listen. We need to put our heads together. We are both in this together and the only way "out" is walking through it.

There is some guilt at play here. I know my battle is minor in comparison to what my boss is going through. She is fighting the fight of her life right now. Plus, she has got deadlines looming all around her and an employee who is reaching their limit. I have added to her worries which is the last thing in the world she needs.

So I must wrap up my morning at home and carry on. It is better to face the fire than walk away from it. It is the only way ...