You Know it's Going to Be a Tough Weekend When ...

This was the hardest weekend I've endured for a very, very long time. I knew it was hard when I found myself counting down the days until I got to go to work on Monday.

Yes, I made it. Yes, it was hard. Would I do it again? Maybe.

Attending the Homecoming by myself was the hardest thing I've done in decades. Made tougher when my car started rattling as soon as I decelerated from highway speeds to turn into town. I mentioned my dilemma to a few people (probably twenty) and one person's response was, "Yes, a lot of people start acting up when they come to our hometown".

It was hard but it was good. I saw a lot of people. Two of the three Mom gathered together for the life changing homecoming in 2006 were there. One of those people was one of the first people I saw; I latched onto the second person's wife during the last piece of the day. I missed the third person terribly.

I survived the day, the car got me home (rattling again when I decelerated). The car situation hovered over me like the dark clouds that decided to rain upon us during my little family gathering of twenty five the next day.

My cousin's wife, to whom I am extremely grateful, arranged, invited, suggested everything pertaining to the afternoon. All I had to do was open my doors (and a little prep and clean up). Two of the first to arrive were my mechanically inclined cousins. I asked them a huge favor as soon as they arrived. "Before you leave today, would you mind driving my car to see if I need to get it fixed in town or if I can make it to the city?" Making it to the city was critical because I'm holidaying/cat-sitting in my previous home and it was imperative I make it to the city in two days. 

Anyway ... back to the gathering ...

It couldn't have went much better (considering the impending rain clouds which kept all 25 of us under the very small roof for quite a while). The garage was company-ready and eventually the crowd divided in two (with a few enjoying the peace of simply sitting on the back step). Small groups conversed together - I like when that happens because that is my favorite part of being "one" in a crowd. Is the small conversations that are more genuine and real than the small talk that happens when there is one, big circle.

I'm glad I hosted the event. My family was beyond grateful but that wasn't the reason. I am hosting a "gathering of nine" in August and I was a small bit apprehensive about the larger gathering. Now, "nine" sounds like a very good one-digit number. I'm ready.

And yes, I must work today. The easiest part of the entire long weekend. Going to a place I don't mind going alone, know my way around and ... it's my last day before a week long holiday. This is the first time (other than adding a day or two onto a weekend) I've taken holidays since 2018.

I'm ready.

P.S. My car is ready too. Other than loose lug nuts (and one missing one) on the front tires, my cousins couldn't hear the rattling I heard. I thought the rattling I heard was from the rear, but I'm taking my chances and driving anyway.

I Can Do This

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can do this.

If You Ask Them ...

I'm living my Field of Dreams life once again. I extended an invitation yesterday morning. There wasn't any back and forth or wavering. It was a simple, "Sounds perfect"; "Wow that sounds awesome"; "We will do that"; "Thank you"; a few more "Thanks"; one "I'm old and wondering about bathrooms" (I'll take that as a 'yes'); 

All I had to do was ask.

It's an easy group. I'm pretty sure it will be as simple as opening up my home/yard/garage and providing the basic necessities. We are ordering in pizza. Bing! Bang! Boom! Easy peasy.

Except I have to get from here to there.

My socializing muscle is weak. My hosting abilities are rusty. This sequestered, solitary little life I lead has not been good. It's been easy but sometimes one must do hard things to live a better life.

One. Forward. Step. At. A. Time.

I asked. They are coming. This is good.

Offer. Connect. Go. Do. Ask. Talk.

I'm stuck. I've been stuck for a while but I've disguised it with excuses. New home, new jobs, new everything. Thus, I have little energy for anything beyond forcing myself out the door to go to work. 

I have disconnected. Connections, connecting and re-connecting were CPR for my soul during the phase(s) of my life when I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and grew to be more of who I could be. 

I have been muddling through just fine. Until this upcoming weekend. My hometown Homecoming weekend. 

It was a Homecoming in 2006 that rerouted my life. Every forward step I've made since can be traced back to that reunion when Mom gathered up a few cousins and a childhood friend at a table. We re-connected like no time had elapsed. It was the last time Mom had to do my talking. I've been a bit of a chatterbox ever since.

So this morning, after much trepidation, I did it. I invited my extended family to gather at my home after the Homecoming. One invitation, no questions, simply a resounding "Yes".

I felt like a bit of a wreck as I wrote my morning pages. I tried to wake up the dormant side of myself. I have disconnected myself from a life I had been enjoying. I had a feeling it may be as simple as making an offer to open my home and yard as a place to gather. And it was. 

Offer - ✔

Connect/Go - I will go to the Homecoming (alone)

Do - Oh, I now have much to get done before this gathering unfolds

Ask/Talk - I must ask how my much anticipated holidays will be affected by our staff shortage at work

I have a ways to go. But I've offered. I believe that momentum will take me where I need to go.

I didn't have Mom's assistance this time. I did it on my own. But I think I feel her silently cheering me on from afar...

Fourteen years ago, I wrote this. Nineteen years ago, Mom got me where I needed to be to feel that hometown connection again. Thanks, Mom.

friday, July 1, 2011

Home Town Connections

This weekend is something that I have been quietly anticipating for the past five years. Since the last time I was 'home' ...

Five years ago, I returned to our home town for a Homecoming Reunion. I drove into town, expecting nothing more than to hang out with my own family and maybe see a few relatives. Little did I know at the time ... that weekend would change the course of my life.

I felt so comfortable ... so at home, that I returned for the second day. I reconnected with a friend ... and I ended up going on an Alaskan cruise with her (almost) five years later. The past started to meet up with my future that weekend.

That weekend started to bring my life into focus. It was the beginning of something that needed to be nurtured within me. The nine year old child in me (I was nine years old when our family moved to Alberta) finally came 'home' again.

Since that time, I have rerouted my life. I have nurtured, watered and tended to my 'roots'. My past, my heritage and my family are now a great part of my life.

This weekend ... I get to go 'home'. Again.

Summer Solstice Hiatus

I'm not certain what happened but I fell out of the habit of my early morning blogging habit over the weekend. I'll blame the longest day.

The day was so long, when I woke up and saw the time 9:35 and full-on daylight outside, I was rattled. I not only slept through the night but I slept through the morning too!! What the heck?

P.S. the dusty night table and dirty clock have been tended.

It took a few minutes to realize it was 9:35 p.m. I had fallen into a deep REM sleep and awoke to utter confusion. The longest day snuck up on me.

When morning finally did arrive, it was a dreary, cloudy, rain warnings galore kind of day. Ahhh. A perfect snuggle up on the couch and waste the day away kind of day. I had few deep thoughts utter than deep appreciation for my new windows:

 

They work! They really work!! I gazed out my new, rain-proof windows and appreciated the secure, dry feeling while the lawn got a good watering. Ahhh. A dreary day is the perfect excuse to let the day slip through my fingers.

I finally awoke to this morning. The birds and furry critters of the neighborhood popped into my back yard to play.

This little squirrel frolicked by the trees, climbed the tree, played in the branches for a while, came back down to the ground and up again before he scampered off behind the garage.

He was joined by grackles (of course), a mourning dove or two and my friendly neighborhood robins. Ahhh. I love when Mother Nature's little wonders grab my attention. I lost yet another morning.

After some relatively productive days off, I lost a weekend. I made the mistake of tuning into the news yesterday afternoon and this morning. World events are sobering and I find it hard to make light of my safe, insulated little life this morning.

I am grateful for this specific moment in time. I dearly hope I can remain focused on my Disney Wonderland of furry and feathered critters outside my patio doors. The best television on earth. Just watching Mother Nature at play.

Mental Gymnastics

Yesterday, my wondering mind led me down a digital rabbit hole within this blog to find an answer. Today's unanswered question provided some exercise for my brain.

My thoughts began with considering this digital age we live in. We can replay the history of a conversation by scrolling through old text messages. Much more efficient than trying to find an old letter, card or paper document. Emails provide the same back-up. Easily stored, filed and the search function makes retrieval relatively simple.

I have a Rubbermaid container and two baskets within my Daybed Room I need to sort through, decide what is worth keeping and find logical spots to store what I decide to keep. So much paper. Yet there is history within that I don't want to lose.

My daughter suggested scanning and saving digital copies of what I want to keep. Sounds like a very good idea. It also sounds like a lot of work.

Then I started wondering about things like "When did I get a cell phone?", which prompted the memory of when my oldest sister and husband got their cell phone. If I remember correctly, they were the first ones within our immediate family to get one. I must have thought cells were for young people and probably a passing fad. I was somewhat amused that my sister and husband were the first to join this passing phase.

"What year was that?" 

Well, there was a family reunion. A family reunion when we had a new-to-us-dog, who got involved in a water fight (the dog was not the hero - as he bit my brother-in-law, while trying to protect my nephew's wife from the water war), where I think said cell phone ended up falling into some water.

I backtracked all memories related to this reunion, trying to pin down the year. Snippets of memories, who was a baby, timelines, where everyone camped/stayed ... as many details as I could muster and I was still coming up blank.

Eventually, I came up with the year 2001. I might be right. I might be wrong. I welcome corrections and clarifications from my siblings. If I was desperate to know the answer, I could rifle through my old letters to Mom and find the answer. 

The moral to my story is I came up with a satisfactory answer to my question, simply by rewinding the memories I hold within my head. I think of Mom every time I challenge myself to remember without falling back on the Internet or a digital form of the memory. Mental gymnastics may not be the answer to brain health, but it can't hurt.

Livin' My Dream

My morning has been completely derailed by looking for the answer to one small question. How long did I enjoy my downstairs bedroom in my previous home? 

I knew the answer was within this blog (the answer is: November 8, 2015 until shortly after the renovation project was complete: March, 2019).

Look what I found while I was doing my research. I documented my dream on July 26, 2013: 

Friday, July 26, 2013

I had a vision of how I wanted last summer to go...

I was working for the school at the time, so there was little chance of being called to work over the summer. In a perfect world (a world where I didn't have to worry about paying the bills), I would have two months of summer holidays. I had an adult child at home that was willing to take care of the house over the summer and I could do anything or go anywhere I wanted. In a perfect world...

I dreamt of finding a quiet retreat. I would pack up my little laptop computer, my Book Research and all the paraphernalia that would be required to get us through the summer. I would pack up My Youngest and they would spend a summer outside, away from X-box live, the Internet and the television set. They would hate me for a while but after all was said and done we would look back on the summer as the-best-we-had-ever-had.

To perpetuate my dream, I found out that one of my dad's brothers had vacated their country home ... which just happened to be the last home that my dad's parents lived in together. It is a two story home and I would set up a desk and computer beside an outward facing window (insert picture of John Boy Walton here) and I would write.

I would vacation in a world that was close to my dad's family. The geography, the atmosphere, the essence, the solitude and the time would provide me with everything I needed to tackle the job that I had set before me. It was going to be wonderful.

I'm still waiting for those two months of summer holidays, but the quiet retreat, the two story home with a desk by an outward facing window, a world close to my roots ... is my reality.

If you dream it, it will come.

I'm living in my field of dreams.