Change

I found myself in a bit of a funk this weekend.

Peter, being the clever fellow that he is, asked me what was wrong.  I didn't know but made up some story about my knee being sore.  It honestly was sore (I wasn't just looking for sympathy) - but I knew that wasn't the reason for the mood.  Today it dawned on me after some serious ruminating.  It's all this change!  Not that I don't look forward to all that's coming, it's just really, really hard and overwhelming right now.

It started in earnest when I started training my replacement at work, and then last weekend kept the momentum going when we started going through the things under the house and in the garden shed.  Kyle announced his wedding date (July 24th).  Jill and I bought a 4-month calendar and plotted the next 1/3 of a year.  Good gracious we'll be busy in the coming months!  Last Monday my house got measured for new flooring.  This weekend involved finally getting Jill's FAFSA submitted, drywall repairs, painting and another load of stuff to the dump.  My house looks like a war zone.

It's all so much so fast.  I am overwhelmed. My kids are growing up so fast.  How did this happen?  I don't get it.  2 years ago, 2 years seemed so far away.  I think the gas pedal on that car racing toward the cliff is stuck.

Perhaps I need to step away from all this for a few days.  Or perhaps I'll just take a deep breath, have another glass of wine and have faith that it'll all work out.

Disaster Recovery

 Peter came down this weekend.  It was a limbo weekend in that it didn't fall into the "every other weekend" scenario.  His neuroloy seminars in Portland have messed up our schedule something fierce.

It was wonderful to see him - and it was wonderful to abuse him.  I put him to work Saturday doing things I have been avoiding.  Several weeks ago my son shared with me that my mother had been storing stuff under the house.   A fact I was previously unaware of.  I just didn't want to go under there.  Not just because there are spiders and other assorted creepy crawlies - but because I didn't want to KNOW what my mother had thought to put under there.

Without too much begging from me, Peter headed "down under."  He retrieved dozens of bottles of water.  Bleach water, soapy water, drinking water.  There was also a plastic bin with supplies and a list of supplies contained within.  I wonder what kind of disaster she thought might befall us that two pencils, a small roll of electrical tape, paper bags and other assorted things would be helpful.  I noticed that she did not include blankets or warm clothing (I suppose on the theory that we had those throughout the house - but then we had dish towels as well..)

It also makes me wonder if this was part of her dementia or if this was generated from her life experiences, The depression, 9/11, and that sort of thing.  I wonder if my mother lived in fear.  I think she did.  I feel very sad that I did not recognize this side of her life.  Perhaps I could have helped.  I'm not sure how, but I know that living in fear that you will run out of toilet paper, or dish soap or that some disaster is going to befall you or a loved one every minute of the day is not a good thing.  It's good to be prepared but it's not so good to be afraid to live your life or allow others to live theirs.  I know that I will take that lesson forward with me.

After we cleared out under the house I drug Peter out to my garden shed, another one of my mothers domains that has sat untended for the better part of a year.  What a mess.  There had been a rat (A RAT!!!!) in there.  gah.   Rat poop, rat urine..  I was so disgusted.  I "let" Peter do most of the clearing out of the shed while I distracted myself with pruning back overgrown plants.  I did help throw stuff away and my garbage bin is now full to overflowing and it's apparent I will need to make another dump run soon.

The carpet measuring guy came by this morning, I'm headed out to get spackle and paint colors as well as pick linoleum for the bathrooms. 

The worst is over right?  Now it's just the fun stuff.

134 days

Today, at work, I was introduced to my successor.  Her name is Suzanne.  She startted shadowing me after lunch.  I was a tad unprepared for this move.  The reality hit me like a wrecking ball.  I can't be anything but happy, but still - I'm moving.  I'm leaving my job.  I'm abandoning this life and starting a new one.  uh.. YIKES!!!

It started out small, just an idea, but it's quickly picking up speed.  My house is under construction.  It's being measured for new carpet on Monday.  I'm preparing to move my trailer north.  I'm getting out from under some bills (poor Jill is going to miss her car!).  I'm picking paint colors and light fixtures.  I have NO idea what to do with my chickens. I don't know where I'm going to live, I don't know how I'm going to pay my bills.  I don't know so many things.  I'm on a road that's pointing downhill in a car with no brakes.  At the bottom of the hill there is a huge cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom (yet somewhere down there I know is Peter saying "Jump honey, I'll catch you!  Everything will be fine.")  Every second it's getting closer and I am hurtling pell-mell toward it.  Again..  YIKES!

Walk Lightly Grasshopper

I went north this weekend.  I know.  So what?  Well it was a spectacular event because for the first time, ever, I left my daughter home alone.  Not entirely alone, She had girlfriends stay with her and the parents of the girlfriends were in on the plan.  Safety in numbers I say.

Just the same, I was on a huge emotional roller coaster for most of the 6 hour drive.  Peter was warned and welcomed me to his house with a really big, safe hug and a glass of wine.  I was prepared to turn around and come home first thing Saturday morning if necessary  (I mean - how could she possibly be okay without me??) but darned if my daughter didn't report all was well and there was no need.  My spies assured me the house was still standing and there had been no wild party the night before.  I wasn't sure if I should feel happy or sad that she's growing up and didn't need me.  I'm still not sure!

After I was convinced all was well at my house on Saturday morning, Peter and I took a leisurely stroll through the north field.  Hand-in-hand we walked along the creek, commenting on the fullness.  It had been raining for days and everything was soggy and the creek was swollen.  An eagle screeched nearby.  Peter's ducks and goose frollicked and played in the pond.  It was so peaceful and pleasant.  It's where I belong. 

Next we headed across the field, through the middle, where Peter had tilled just before the rainy season started.

As we started across the field my feet stuck to ground and there was this seriously gloppy sucking noise with each step I took.  Then the sticking and sucking got worse.  The first couple steps had me just sticking to the ground, then I was sinking into my ankles with a sklurp sklurp with each step.  Then - all the way in to the top of my boots and my feet were completely stuck! I could pull my foot out - but that left my boot behind!  So I grabbed my boot and foot and pulled up.  Whew!  I got loose, but the next step was just as bad!  Peter suggested I "Walk lightly."  I don't know what that means but it wasn't working.  I mean.. I weigh what I weigh.  He has these built-in snow shoes for feet and wasn't having much trouble. 

I considered ways to distribute my weight, I could start crawling on my hands and knees (that would give me 4 points of contact but I was sure that wouldn't be enough.)  Then I thought of just laying down in the mud and muck and slithering through it like a snake.  Hmm.. that could be fun but not very practical.  Ultimately I decided to plod on.  And then I had this epiphany, I would run!  Less time on the ground would give my feet less time to sink and that would, ultimately, cause me to step lightly ( I think I was having a "Kung Fu" flashback - leave no foot prints on the rice paper grasshopper..).  So I got one foot loose and took off... sort of.  I had momentum, but the feet still got stuck.  Over I went - the forward momentum carrying me right down.  I caught myself, hands down in the muck.  Uck!

I went back to the sucking and sklurping and moving slowly through the field. Peter had to pull me out a couple times but I eventually made it.  Exhausted. 

As we moved into the woods to continue our survey of the property Peter's mother came up to me, gave me a big hug and said, "thank you!" 

I was puzzled.  Thanks for what?  I couldn't imagine what I had done that warranted that.

So I asked.  She said that I had given her the best entertainment ever as she watched me make my way across the gloppy field and she was thanking me for the excellent show.  She had been watching the whole thing through her living room window.

At least I made someone happy!