It is Time

I have been searching for a blog writer who speaks to me for quite some time now. I finally found her. Her blog is called "Robin Kramer Writes". When I read how she describes herself: "Writing is how I make sense of the world", I knew I had found a virtual friend.

I have gone back through the archives of her blog and started reading from the beginning. I am presently up to July 13, 2011: http://www.robinkramerwrites.com/2011/07/garage-sale.html
Once again, it was a phrase that came through the computer screen and grabbed me "I realized something about myself.  Having too much stresses me out."

Exactly! She is inside my head and is writing what I am thinking, seven years before I came to realize the exact same thing.

Having too much stresses me out.

I slowly came to realize My Time of Great Down Sizing after closing my daycare happened in order to make room for what was coming. I was thinking more along the lines of renting out the upstairs of our home or my invitation for Mom to move in. I didn't intentionally make room for Mom's belongings after she died. But that is exactly what happened.

I didn't want anything of Mom's. I didn't need anything. What I had was enough. I didn't want more. Thankfully my sister didn't listen. She brought a trailer load of stuff to fill the empty spaces of our home. I quite honestly plunked these furnishings down as she brought them in and I haven't moved them again. I had accidentally made room for them. They fit. They belonged. My sister knew.

The room which is weighing me down is the room which is filled with Mom's spirit. Her books, her memories, cards and letters I wrote to her, pictures, paperwork ... and the list goes on.

It is too much.

I walk in there and I pretty much know exactly where to locate something I am looking for. In fact, just this moment I went in and retrieved Mom's copy of the book To Kill a Mockingbird after reading Robin's quote from the book in the above mentioned post.

I have been searching for a more fulfilling purpose within my after work hours and I do believe I have stumbled onto the "what's next" portion of this life I'm living.

"Having too much stresses me out". It is time. Time to open some cupboards and start lightening my load again. I need to organize and make room for what is important within "Mom's room". That room is so laden and heavy right now. It is time to make room for "what's next"...

 "This" is where I need to begin. I've been saying it for months but I have not had the energy nor motivation to put my words into action.

Thanks, Robin. Thank you for writing what I have not yet put words to within this head full of untranslated thoughts. I have too much. I need to create some order within Mom's room. I suspect I will find a great amount of peace will come during and after the transformation.

It is time to make a plan. It is time to start moving forward and through the past year in a physical kind of way.

Now What?

My role as executor to Mom's will is winding down to a close. We are on the final leg of this journey and as soon as I mail the final documentation to our friendly, neighborhood taxation department, everything that happens from there will be out of my hands.

I have done the math. I have accounted for every penny which has passed through the estate. I have checked, re-checked and checked again, to ensure all interest paid has been duly reported. I have walked through every letter of taxation law with my accountant and I am satisfied that everything has been done as correctly as humanly possible.

I have documentation, facts and figures. I have come at these numbers from every conceivable angle I can think of. I fixate on these kinds of things. Numbers are tangible, provable and can be balanced to the penny.

I have done all I can do. Now we wait.

My definition of "who I am" has been wrapped around Mom for quite some time. As I let my mind relax and look back, I have few regrets. Mom and everyone around me encouraged me to focus on life beyond Mom while I was walking that walk. When everything became so very quiet after all details pertaining to Mom, her death and her estate, it was only then that I realized how very much of my identity was wrapped around defining myself as "Mom's Daughter".

I hunkered down and felt all I needed to feel. I was lost and without purpose for a while. My last real conversation with Mom cycled around in my head in a loop "What is your ten year plan?" she asked, as she leaned into the conversation and waited for my answer.

Sometimes, I still feel her waiting.

I have broken it down into segments. First of all - the present. My present day life is truly about as good as it gets. I still have all the flexibility I need within my roles and responsibilities. I am doing things that "matter", which is important to me. I feel valued. I feel like I give back. When I look too far down the road, my knees buckle and I feel weak. So I don't look that far. None of us knows what tomorrow will bring. "Prepare yourself but take it one day at a time" is my motto.

It is the time left over at the end of my day jobs that I struggle with. I have not quite yet defined who I am when I am not tending to someone else's needs. I remember the days when I would take my unspent energy and invest it in tending our home. I am trying to find that part of me again. But I want to be more than the keeper of a clean and organized house. At one point of my life, I joked that my children would most likely etch the words "She kept a clean house" on my headstone because I was not a warm and fuzzy, memory making kind of mom. But at least our house was clean. I have evolved.

I wrote these words four years ago. I was struggling but I was content. My son thought I was depressed and this was my response to a conversation we had:

"I am not perfect. I used to try to be. I wore myself out and beat myself up and kept trying and trying but I never attained the height that I had set for myself. I have evolved to the stage of my life where I am happy to simply be 'enough'.

I worry enough to get that-which-needs-to-be-done, done. I care enough to get through the day and fulfil the parts of me/life that need filling up the most. I am independent enough to know that I can lean a little bit and still be self reliant. I feel enough to empathize with you when you are feeling 'life' strongly.

Life is full of ups and downs, highs and lows, ebbs and flows. I used to expect more out of life, out of myself and out of you. I have let all of us off the hook and I am content and relaxed enough to just go with the flow and trust that it will all work out in the end."

I was content to simply be "enough" back then. Sometimes I forget how wise I used to be. I'm grateful I write these things down because I have found most of the time, I know the answers I am seeking. "It was within you all the time, Dorothy" (slightly paraphrased from "The Wizard of Oz")

I believe the part of me I am seeking right now is the part where I fulfil the parts of me/life that need filling up the most.

I'm still looking for your answer, Mom. It's coming. I can feel it a little closer every day.

Why I Had to Quit Daycaring

Is it just me? Or does anyone else out there shake their heads in wonder at all the video footage of "kids doing bad things"? It possibly started with America's Funniest Home Videos (?), with the possibility of winning the grand prize. Just my opinion.

Anyway ... I must apologize to parents-who-take-videos-of-kids-doing-bad-things everywhere. I wondered why there is cat hair on our kitchen counters yesterday. In the name of research, I searched the archives of our "Ray and Jet" folder and found just a little bit more evidence of (perhaps?) the reason our cats don't listen to me:

Yes, the black blurry object is indeed a cat making his escape from the "Lazy Susan"

The fax activity report proves Jet has attempted to send faxes on several occasions

This mangled roll of toilet paper was inside of a child proof bathroom cupboard

A most excellent place to rest after a hard day of being a cat

And that, my friend, is why I had to quit daycaring. If the cats are breaking all the rules, can you imagine what the kids were trying to get away with?!

And that's all I have to say about that.

The Need to Be Pushed

I need a push some times. Most of the time. Well? Truth be told, I need a "push" ALL of the time.

I have had a nice little burst of weekend company this past while which actually went better than I could have anticipated.

I truly hoped my very first guest would cancel so that my work and preparations would be rewarded with a clean home, all the "hard things" done and (another) quiet weekend at home.

Thankfully that never came to pass. My guest arrived a day later than anticipated, it was a flurry of activity, visiting and eating. It was exhausting. But that visit resulted one very good thing. It encouraged me out of the quiet and safe little cocoon I had wrapped around myself.

I just stepped away and perused my calendar to see how life transpired after that initial visit. It actually wasn't much of a "flurry" of activity. Perhaps a mild dusting would be a better way to describe it. But after the months which preceded the initiating incident, it felt like a flurry.

This one invitation to join in and live life more fully was a beginning. I am so pleased how things unfolded after that point. I didn't have to do a whole lot of inviting. I simply had to say "yes" to the offers that came my way.

Things have slowed down a little again. Without the push to do something, I tend to do nothing. Throughout the entirety of the past long weekend, I could describe all the "hard things" I did by saying I mowed the lawn, showered and colored my hair. I ate a lot. Does that count for anything? [NO!!!]

Anyway, what my point was at the beginning of this post, is that I really need to be shoved out of my complacency and prodded into action with a pokey stick.

This morning, a well overdue furnace cleaning was my initiating incident.

I was forced to tidy and sweep up the laundry room. I needed to wash my hair. The house hadn't been vacuumed in a week. And my furnace guy was scheduled to arrive at 9 a.m.

Guess what? I can do hard things before 9 o'clock in the morning. And guess what else? It feels good to do so. Will I repeat this sequence of events tomorrow? Probably not. Even though I have an early morning appointment booked with my accountant, no one is coming into my home. So all the hard things which have been done today, will most likely be enough to push me through the better part of the week.

I am presently wondering what I could arrange in the week(s) ahead to keep me moving in a productive sort of way.

House maintenance and minor renovations should be next on my to-schedule list. But I seem to have booked too many summer and fall getaways to feel like I can afford that. Maybe I'll stick to must-do items and cleaning for the moment.

One thing I have noticed as I have taken the better part of two hours or more to write these words - productivity begets more productivity. Sometimes. I believe the key lies into starting first thing in the morning.

As I sludge through the motions and keep on top of things that MUST be done around here, I marvel and wonder at the person I used to be. When my furnace inspection was done three weeks ago, I mentioned that "in the old days", knowing someone was going to be in my laundry room would have triggered a thorough cleaning. All I could think this morning as I (once again) did a bare minimum to prepare for the furnace cleaner, is that it felt much easier because I had just tidied this spot a short while ago.

Where has my ambition gone? Where can I find it? Is it hiding in the early morning hours when all I really want to do is to be still, work on my word games, write and savor my morning coffee? Perhaps that is exactly where it went.

There was a reason I used to get up so early. I do all my hard things in the morning. I just have to figure out a way to accomplish more with the time I make for myself.

It can be done. I just have to make it a priority. Therein lies the problem. I really don't care to make housework my #1 goal in life. "Good enough" has become my motto. I blame our cats. I can't keep ahead of the hair. Tell me this ... is there anyone else out there who actually vacuums their kitchen counters? I do. I have no idea why ...

This house has gone to the cats. I give up. Until I'm poked and prodded into action again.

Layering

As I reread my entirely unnecessary and rambling post from yesterday, I spotted the message within the excessive words. The hidden message was "Everything we learn and do with our lives prepares us for the next step".

Every job I have held, no matter how small, prepared me for the next. The fact that I often seemed to have another job on the side tells me that I was always searching and open to add another layer of experience and looking ways to become more of who I was.

There is nothing I enjoy more than being on the receiving end of a service provided by someone who is well suited for and enjoys the work they do.

A brief conversation with a server at a restaurant revealed why we were so impressed. He replied that he had tried a different line of work but he was told because he was service oriented, he should work in the customer service industry . Whoever planted that seed in his mind deserves a medal. Our server deserves a medal himself, for nurturing that advice. He heard it, pursued it and even if this position is simply a stepping stone to the career he is headed towards, he has found a job that currently honors who he is.

The hospital staff we came across throughout Mom's various hospital visits are a true testament to the hard working medical team who made Mom's visits easier to bear.

We spent a lot of that time in the ER, a place where you know the demands on the staff is high, the line of people waiting to be seen is long and there are limited resources. Yet every single time Mom was admitted and she made mention of others who were worse off and needed more immediate attention than her, she was assured and reassured that she needed medical attention just as much as anyone else. They would treat her with respect, speak to the person she was and proceed to give her their full attention. These were medical professionals who, from what we experienced, were in a job they were perfectly suited for. They were shining stars.

We came across an EMT extraordinaire, who came and checked in on us each time he made a return trip to the hospital with a new patient. I cannot see his face in my mind but I'll never forget his last comment, "It's the Big Bird family!" he made when he spotted all of us gowned up in bright yellow gowns as they took precautions over the "unknown cause" of Mom's stomach troubles (that minor, but unnecessary inconvenience resulted in the necessity of a private room for Mom which, in the end, was a true blessing). I can't imagine the type of person you need to be, to become an EMT. In my opinion, they are superstars. This particular one stands out in my memory but he was last, in a long line of an emergency responders who went above and beyond the call of duty.

My mind veers off in several directions as I replay scenarios in my mind.

When we walk with the current, it often takes us where we need to go even when the path feels like it is filled with unnecessary diversions.

I recently made the comment that I did indeed marry too young and if my life became a "choose your own adventure" storybook and I could go back and change one thing, I said I would choose not to marry at age seventeen. I barely spoke the words when I realized that would mean I would never have had my second son; the chances of relocating close to my roots would have been remote; I most likely would have never made the family connections I have made while researching our family history books; nor would I have been in the time and place I was, when my third child came to be.

I backtracked my thinking and quickly realized that the connective tissue that made my life exactly as it IS would not have happened if I didn't marry who and when I did. I was a shell of who I have become and without the challenges I faced, I fear for who I may not have evolved into being.

Life layers you with experiences. One layer of knowledge, experience, misguided thinking and errors of judgement teaches you what you need to know to take on the next lesson you need. If we take these lessons and lie one on top of the other, keeping what we need to know and paying that forward, we are on our way to living our best life.

My nephew, who has found a way to make a living by making people laugh, said it all when he commented that there was no such thing as a "bad show". Those were the shows that gave him some of the best material to work with. He takes a bad show and makes it better. That, in my humble opinion, is the definition of success. Taking what you are given, turning it around and utilizing it to make the next step as best as you can.

Perfection is a futile expectation but I suppose I will never stop aiming for it, knowing that aiming high will take me where I need to go. Making mistakes along the way is to be expected and necessary. If we attained perfection immediately, we wouldn't learn what we need to know to become better.

It is the mistakes, missteps, misguided decisions and diversions that has taught me everything I need to know, to be who I am. Who I am is always in need of improvement, new hopes, dreams and goals.

There is something that changes when one reaches the final semester of life. Fear of failing becomes a little more crippling because it is accompanied by the sense that there is not as much time to recover from a fall.

Fear of falling. Fear of failing. Fear of losing. It all equals a fear of living. This is where I seem to be hovering. I know I can't remain in this phase very long so I am trying to insulate myself with the knowledge and understanding that life has taught me everything I need to know to take another tentative step.

Take what you have and carry it forward with you, knowing it will take you where you need to go. Just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, she had the power all along; she had to learn it for herself.

"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?" ~ Dorothy, "The Wizard of Oz"

Taking a Math Break

There is a reason I never became an accountant or a full time "numbers" person. I am taking a break from math this morning. Maybe the whole day. I've had my fill for the moment.

I know why I am drawn to numbers. You are figuring out solvable problems. There are answers that are deemed right or wrong. I love balancing to zero. It is one of my favorite things.

But what I am discovering is that there are so many ways go come to the correct answer.

Appeasing all the rules of accounting, the taxation department, ensuring everything is reported correctly, consistently and adheres to all the cross checks and balances boggles my mind every now and again.

Then I rest.

The world of words and letters continues to beckon me. There are fewer rights or wrongs here. Yes, there is spelling, grammar, wording and proper decorum to guide me. But I am accountable only to myself. Perhaps this is the reason I prefer to write for pleasure rather than trying to please and appease an audience &/or editor.

I believe I have been drawn to fulfill my "calling" my whole life.

Originally, I was drawn to child care (starting out with dog care and graduating to children when I was old enough) because that was the only employment available to me before I turned sixteen. This not only provided an income but started honing my abilities to work with and for people.

Next, I worked the service industry (an ice cream kiosk, followed by Pizza Hut) where I experienced the cause and effect of good customer service.

I started working in the banking industry during my Pizza Hut years which helped me appreciate providing customer service while dealing with people's bank accounts was a far cry from dealing with someone who received the wrong pizza.

My banking career was often supplemented by weekend employment of a non-numbers nature. Eventually my full time focus turned to running a daycare, which was subsized by Saturday employment at a financial institution, which in turn was followed by working part time as a bookkeeper. In time, bookkeeping progressed to a full time commitment.

The evolution from bookkeeper to "substitute secretary" for the school board was the hardest transition of all. Rules which sounded black and white became every shade of gray, pink and blue under the sky. Not having a right/wrong; true/false; cross checked and balanced to zero answer was my undoing. A second job was a requirement. There was no regularity to my schedule and I had to make myself available seven days a week.

I felt like I was walking against the current throughout that entire year.

I literally came home again when I reopened my daycare which coincided perfectly with the offer of a weekend bookkeeping job. I was my own boss again. I was walking with the current, doing what I did best. I was back in my comfort zone child tending, self employment, writing for some papers and bookkeeping on the side.

Nothing ever stays the same.

I closed my daycare. My resignation from column writing came about during that same period. Life was shifting and changing under my feet. These were uncertain times but they have brought me today. And today, I am exactly where I am meant to be. For now.

I have two, part time jobs which equal "one". I am bookkeeper, hear me calculate! I am a care provider, feel me care. Either one of these jobs alone would be too much and not enough at the same time.

I believe we are all craving a sense of balance throughout our lives. Life is always evolving so there is always a sense of feeling the need to brace oneself for the inevitable change that is headed our way whether we plan for it or not.

As I look back, I can remember the feeling when my sense of balance was off. I made changes when and where necessary. When I was unable to change the circumstance I would endeavor to try to change my perspective and try to make the best of the situation at hand.

Of course none of this is as simple as it sounds. It is the places "in between" that are tough to figure out while you are in the trenches walking the walk. I am ever thankful for each and every time I find a safe place to land and assess the situation while I'm living it.

Today, I am simply taking a break from the accounting end of things. I am appreciating the view from the plateau I have reached. I cannot ignore the feeling that life-as-I-know-it could change in an instant. But now? Right now? I am just going to breathe deeply and inhale this moment.

Maybe I should do a little more than inhale the moment. The only calculator I am drawn to at the moment is a "calorie calculator" which has explained that my current rate of eating minus my current rate of under activity results in a 2 pound a week weight gain.

There is a mathematical explanation for almost anything. Sigh ... I knew I wanted to take a math holiday.

Remembering ...

Seven years ago today, I was savoring the vacation of a lifetime. I was cruising up the Alaskan coast with a friend I've known ever since I have a memory, en route to meet up with the first best friend I made after our family moved to Edmonton when I was nine years old.

I just spent the past hour or so rereading the blog posts I wrote while I was livin' the dream.If you click "here", it will take you back to May, 2011 and you can reminisce with me for a while ...

Wow. My life has gone through a lot of transitions since then.

As I write those words, I am reminded of the journey my career path took after I returned home from that cruise.

I look around me and remind myself that I still live in the same home but different cats adorn it.

I think of family connections and how much stronger they feel.

As I think back on those seven years, I remember those who have passed during that time. So many of those who were an integral part of my memories, who shared their stories with me so we could assemble them onto the pages of our family history books. I am so very grateful for each and every memory I made.

My relationships within my own little family unit ebb and flow, which is to be expected as each of my children become more of who they are. I hope we will grow closer despite the distance created by our individual growth spurts.

I remember who I used to be, who I became, who I lost and as I reflect on those years, I am starting to feel the stirring of life within me again.

I kind of like the sound of the girl who wrote those posts back in May of 2011. She was a girl who was living the dream. She was looking up, making memories, appreciating the moment and dreaming big.

I remember how my sense of security about the future was shattered when Mom had a health scare in the months that preceded that Alaskan cruise. My senses were heightened after that. I was gently reminded how precious life is. Mom and I made a lot of memories between then and now. I'm so grateful for each and every one of them.

Life was full of ups, downs, in betweens, transitions, living and loss these past seven years. I am grateful for the ability to look back and reread the words I wrote when I was walking that path. I am reminded that throughout the low times, there was a sense of hopefulness and gratitude that prevailed.

I wonder where life will take me the next seven years. Wait! I really do not want to know the answer. One day at a time. Let hope and gratitude rule the day. Write, laugh and maybe dance. Let my actions be ruled by these thoughts and all things become possible.