It may be foolish of me, at my age and in my current condition, but I hang on to the hope that the pain of this effort is leading somewhere: renewal, new purpose, or at the very least, a blossoming.
Category: aging
Monday Mood: Stretched too far
Saturday we packed up the garage (with help). Dusty, dirty, and exhausting.
Sunday we attended and then hosted a farewell party for our Ukrainian roommate, who is going back to Ukraine despite all our protests. Yes, two separate gatherings. Heart wrenching.
This morning, we visited our new apartment building to get set up with a storage room and took a load of stuff to charity. I’m asleep on my feet.
I feel just like the tree in this photo. Stretched beyond.
Tomorrow, some of the furniture moves out. Hope I manage to stay upright.
Discovery
Does life ever turn out the way we expected? I doubt it. A smooth ride would only serve to make us dull and unsympathetic beings.
I didn’t know that I had the ability to crawl out of darkness until I did. When illness knocked me off my feet, I had the reassurance of knowing I’d defeated worse.
The future is unknown, and I trust that I am equipped to handle whatever comes my way.
Ducks In a Row
I’m trying to be practical and methodical about the upcoming move, but emotions cloud the process. I fluctuate between excitement and trepidation. Moving, after all, does require letting go.
We’ve been going through the boxes in storage – things we’ve moved from house to house, and seldom looked at. Ric found his mother’s silver serving utensils and has been paralyzed for a day contemplating what to do about them. I suggest he should save them for his next wife, in case she likes polishing.
Thank goodness for timelines and lists. It forces us to stay on track. Must keep those ducks in a row.
Monday Mood: bursting
It started Thursday evening when we picked up our 10-year-old granddaughter for a dinner out. The conversation was lively and I learned so much about the world from her perspective.
Then Saturday, our oldest daughter announced she was playing her first ever hockey game, so we drove to the city to watch. I didn’t even know she could skate, and turns out neither did she. She faced her fear and did it anyway. So proud of her.
Yesterday, two of the kids dropped by to pick up some furniture, with the 4-year-old in tow, announcing she had come to play. We chatted over a snack, coloured princesses, read about princesses, had another snack, and shared lots of cuddles.
One of my goals in moving back to the city is to be closer to family. It’s already happening, and this Granny’s heart is bursting.
Resilience
Boxes are filling up around us. We’re making a dent in our to-do lists. Doubt seeps in. Are we doing the right thing?
Then I remember all the reasons behind making this choice and affirm:
We are dismantling one life to build another, purposeful existence.
Monday Mood: squirrely
The movers need to be arranged, and the closets sorted and packed, and when was the last time we bought groceries….
Head and attention are going in too many directions at once, and I’m exhausted before I get started. Might be a little cranky too.
The stress of moving is real.
Fire (haiku)
Fluid
Oh, the fluidity
Of childhood days
Splashing and skipping along
The path meandering, directionless
When does life acquire edges
Doors and hallways hindering?
Led by asphalt and time clocks
Obligations too numerous to count.
My own body has become a cell
Movement stiffened, mind rigid
It’s those childhood memories
Soul ingrained, keep me fluid.
(Image my own)
Responsibility
You are not responsible for everything. Be accountable. Strive to be self-aware. Know that there is so much more at work than you could ever carry on your own, so don’t even try.
Note to self.
