Goodbye L106

Much to my physical detriment, I finished up what I could at our old apartment and put the keys, garage opener, and mail key into a labeled plastic baggie in the dropbox at our property manager’s office. They aren’t doing face-to-face walk throughs right now, which I totally understand and appreciate, so I’m really at their mercy. I had to do the final steps of cleaning and mopping on my own. I have a sad appreciation for what my mum experiences with her osteo and rheumatoid arthritis now. The pain in my hands and my dominant arm is awful, which prompted an early morning run to the pharmacy for pain relief.

But what about the pain of saying goodbye to our long-time home? I thought perhaps I’d be sad and let go of a few tears as I walked away from the place that was our family’s refuge for the last 6 1/2 years. Maybe it’s the fact that all things have a time and place in our lives, but no, I didn’t cry and I felt those threads of connection falling away as I drove home last night. HOME. It’s a loaded word. I’m now permanently a renter so home is a more meaningful word for me than a house. It’s my new refuge and my new place of love, light, joy and even (right now at least) pain. It’s where my kids are with me. It’s where I put my things – of which there are TOO MANY – and it’s where I rest when the world is too much.

L106 was a great home for a long time and I don’t look back on it with any regrets. I was talking to my daughter about it these last few days, from the perspective of both our old place and my marriage to her dad. I had a wonderful life with him as my partner and have no regrets about that life we had. Like the apartment, that life was good and had time and a place in my overall life, but now I’m in a new time and place. I feel joy when I know that he is finding happiness and stretching into his new life, as well. I joke with people that he feels like a sibling to me now, which is probably more true than jest, and I don’t know if the audiences of that comment get what I fully mean. A person can occupy a special place in your heart and it doesn’t have to be a place that is bounded by society’s notions of love. He is family to me and he is special. I think perhaps a lot of folks around our periphery don’t grasp that concept.

And so, too, will our old place hold a special place in my heart. It was our “Hobbit Hole”. It was a mixed bag of adored and safe home and irritating home with the awful kitchen, the dishwasher that didn’t, and the endless parade of spiders that got in under the door that didn’t quite fit. I loved that place. I had too many people, too close in proximity for my sensitive emotional antenna, but I loved it. I liked the way people said hello and we all talked to each other’s dogs. Hell. My dear doggie ended his years with us there and perhaps that’s the hardest memory from that place… that and the end of my marriage.

That’s what is both hard and good about life, though. It’s filled with these big and little events that leave their marks. We lived through a lot of joy and a lot of pain in that place and maybe that’s why I didn’t cry when I said goodbye last night. I’m going to focus on the good memories and let the bad ones drift and fade.

Spicy Ginger did some truly lovely things for me yesterday. I want to perform acts of service for him, too, and I’ll have to work on that now that I’m finally and permanently home. I drove back into my parking spot this morning, after the trek to the pharmacy, and there was his work truck in its spot. I had that same rush of happiness I always get when I see the signs he is here. I put a bag of candy on his windshield, with the wiper holding it down, and I giggled as I trotted back into my place. I love being home. I love him.

Moonfire

The Sum of Small Joys

There are so many things to love about my new life in this space. Oldest has done some work on putting away our dishes and we’ve got our laundry running in the machines that are no longer located so we have to walk through the kids’ bedrooms. The carpet is soft and plush under our feet. The lighting is generous and varied, so you don’t feel like you’re stuck trying to see or lacking in some way. There is storage, even if it’s taking a bit more coordination than we’d expect. The cherries are ripening on the tree just around the side of the duplex and they taste amazing.

Spicy stops by in the most fun and unexpected ways, whether it’s to show me a project he’s working on or to bring me a jar of flowers for my front porch. Yesterday he entertained us with colorful smoke bombs and his attempts to persuade the kitties to let him visit with them. I watched him fix a power tool for his best friend yesterday and it was fascinating. He and I are dragging the kids out this evening to harvest as many of those cherries as possible before the birds fully figure out that they are ripe and ready to eat.

I’m working at the breakfast bar and have found that I love the space more each day. It has good light and I like that I’m not taking up space at the dining room table anymore. The only downside is that I’m slouching horribly on the bar stool, so I’ve ordered a tall task chair that adjusts to bar height. I think it’ll support my back well and fix the slouching issue. Given that it’s likely I’ll be working here for another 2 months, at least, I think it’s a worthwhile investment.

The kids are finding their footing, too. Oldest has converted the garage space into a promising family/teen hang out. We’ve decided, as a family, to put the tv in there and just go for it. That means the living room will more truly be my space to relax in. I like that idea and have pondered how to afford a record player so I can listen to my old vinyl mum passed on to me.

I’m imagining art that will go on the walls. I’ll pull out the old family photos of my mum as a toddler and my grandparents. I want to get them framed and put them up. I’ve seen some art posters that could be framed and hung up, but all that will have to wait while I trundle through unpacking things I already have.

I love the textured hard surface flooring and how it feels on my feet. I love the way my cats are settling in and how they roar around in the early a.m. hours, even though I know they’re keeping me awake. I love the green outside my windows and all the potential for the gardens. I love the batch of varied brown eggs we collected this morning. They will be tasty as a casual scrambled egg dinner tonight.

I love lazing on my bed, watching out the windows. I love the gray walls that could seem cold but the lighting keeps them warm and welcoming. I love the new sounds I’m acclimating to and how a knock on the door gets my heart jumping as I’m always hoping it’s Spicy Ginger poking his head in. He shows me things and then says, “Ok, get back to work,” and it makes me laugh.

I love the fact that I’m independent here, but I still have companionship.

I love that my family and friends can visit us here when we’re settled in and I won’t be embarrassed about how messy it is.

I love that doing things feels good here. Doing laundry feels easier. Doing dishes doesn’t make me grumpy because the counter is too low or the dishwasher doesn’t work. Eating at the table feels like a treat because it didn’t happen often or well at our old place.

It was a good home over there until it wasn’t anymore and this is now my good home. Day by day will pass and we’ll get more settled in. I hope we don’t lose grasp of how lovely it is and how much peace we can find here.

Moonfire

Home Sweet Home

It poured rain on us for our big moving day. That title for the day may be only partially correct as we’re still in process of getting stuff out of the old place, but most of it is now here at our home.

I love it here. I love the layout. I love the gray paint and the flooring. I love the yard around us and the fruit everywhere. I love the silly goth chickens.

I hate moving. I hate the packing and the way that everything ends up feeling frantic, even when you try to be prepared and you’re NEVER as prepared as you should be. At least, I’m not. I was pulled in too many directions. Trying to keep the kids going was a full time experience and then I was always tired. Up until this morning I have been more than exhausted. I have was drained down to zero reserves of energy.

Today I’m back to work for the first time in 5 days and yes, I’m taking a moment to write this, but it feels good to be back on. I’m working at the breakfast bar on one of my new bar stools and my ass is rapidly squishing down the sprightly seat. I’ll rotate on all three seats so they are all equally squished. It’s the least I can do for my family, right?

My cats are slowly acclimating. The young one is bouncing back quickly, which surprised me since she’s such a lump. My older cat is still bordering on skittish, so I think we’re going to give her more time before we introduce her to the outdoors. I’m excited for her because she has needed this for years.

Opening up boxes is like getting presents that you really, really want. Clearly there is joy to be found in our own possessions. I had to get a few things for our new space, as we gave up some things for other things in coming here. I no longer have a pantry BUT I have great counter space. It’s worth it. I have room for my dining room table and chairs and there isn’t carpeting in the dining space – OMG THANK YOU – so now we’re able to eat at the table each meal. I love my table even more now.

My bed in the living room is actually pretty and comfy and my new-found joy is laying on the bed and looking out the window into the green yard. I watch our neighbors go to and fro out there, which is better than tv ever could be. I especially love watching the trio of little girls (sisters) that pass by. We’ve all discovered that the windows in the front room is our favorite spot to sit. I have my upholstered storage bench and slipper chair there and it’s really the best spot to perch.

I love the kitchen. I love the garage. I even like our super teeny bathroom. Everything is super functional and I think it will all be easy to keep up. We just have to get through the last of the packing and transporting, cleaning/repairing the old place, and then we can finally relax here permanently. Someone commented on my post about relaxing now and I had a good hearty laugh over that. I’m at least 1-2 weeks away from that point. Still, I get the idea and believe me when I say that I’m welcoming the new-found peace we’ll have here.

As for Spicy Ginger? Oh man… I love living closer to him. I’m being careful to not impose on him. But being able to walk across for our Saturday night time is a gift. The kids tease me and tell me to take care on my long “trek”. Still, I do want to ensure that he has the comfort and privacy he needs. Even as I write that, I feel that urge to run across the drive and jump on him. Darn that man and his ginger-sexiness.

Well, it’s time to return to work and get things done before I drive oldest to work. I’m going to work on my to-do list – both for home and work. I’m going to hit some deadlines and I have a Zoom staff meeting to attend today. Life is good. I’m grateful for all that I have and the love in my world. I’m grateful for the friends/family who got us almost totally moved last Saturday. I’m grateful I have a good job with people I care about. I’m really grateful that my world is calming down, day by day.

Moonfire

Cancer Sucks

My best friend is recovering from surgery and radiation for breast cancer. She’s doing really well and the doctors have great things to say about her progress. The got all of it and she’s worn and sore, but surviving.

My aunt lost her battle with ovarian cancer yesterday morning. She leaves her daughter and partner behind. Her daughter just turned 17 (she’s 6 months younger than my daughter). She was a really cool lady and she was the person who kept me connected to their family. I first met her when my oldest was 9 months old and her baby was just barely 3 months old. We bonded over being older new moms… she was just 7 years older than me. I liked how she was strong, educated, had a sense of humor and didn’t take crap from people.

When I was looking at doing my master’s in library science, she worked at the Vancouver Public library in BC. We were up visiting and she took me on the most incredible behind-the-scenes tour. When my Nana was dying, I drove with her for the visits. We talked about a lot. We ate good foods together. We talked parenting and I really loved her, but more than anything I seriously liked her.

In my family, we’re very matriarchal – both my dad’s side and my mom’s side. It just ended up being that way. So her daughter being left without her mom at such a young age is really hitting me hard. All the future events that mean a lot to moms… all the times when a daughter just needs her mom for a hug and for a bitch session and for understanding when the world does what it always does.

It’s even worse with the border to Canada being closed. I wouldn’t impose myself on them right now, but I can’t even go up to be with them and to tell them how much I cared about her. I can’t hug them. I love my uncle, but he was a lot older than my aunt and he’s gotten to be kind of a pill in his later years. His daughter needs him to be loving and kind for her and gosh, I hope that’s what he does. Of course, he’s grieving too. And that hits hard. They had a late start in life together and dammit, they should have had a lot of years together.

I had to write it out, though. I need to remember how much fun I had hanging out with her and how I thought she was a good mom. I’m so very grateful that my dad started group email strings with all of us, so that I heard from her, my dad’s partner, and my sister, during this COVID-19 stuff. We all exchanged humor, beauty, and safety tips. We talked about social injustices and I can’t say enough how glad I am that I saw what she was writing. It makes this hurt just a little less.

She went downhill really fast in the end and my dad said it was a blessing. I know exactly what he meant. The suffering for her and for her family are over. They are grieving and hurting in a different way now. Maybe it’s stupid, but I thought she was winning. I know I didn’t hear and see everything that was going on, but I truly thought she was beating it. My only glad thought is that her pain has ended. The rest hurts too much right now.

I’m so glad she was a part of my life.

Moonfire

Out of Spoons

I got sick this week. Was it allergies that triggered a bacterial infection? Was it fatigue and dehydration? Was it just stress? I have no answers. I was in so much pain that the bedding hurt to touch my skin. I finally called off sick for work and spent a day and a half in bed. I’m better today, but holy shit, I can’t have that happen again until the move is done.

Oldest is having suicidal thoughts again. Youngest looks pale and wiped out. I’m trying to stay functional while keeping us on track for the move and it hasn’t been happening. I don’t want to fall down again, not like I did this week. I can’t afford the missed time and I sure as hell can’t drop the ball with the move. So using the spoon analogy, I’m out. They are being used up completely when I put one foot in front of the other to get things done. I don’t have anyone to lean on during this time, so it all rests with me. I have to shake off all the things nattering at me and focus on the one or two that must be done at any given point.

I’m looking at a document that I need to prep for work. I know what I need to do in order to take care of it, but my mind is wiped out from this week. I drank coffee this morning, in an attempt to grab some energy so I could make it through today. Yeah that was not a good idea, at least not according to my teeth and jaw and stomach.

I have a simpler series of tasks that I can do this afternoon and I think that’s what I’ll do for now. I can pull all my financial reports for May and stash them. It’s a tedious, time-intensive task to do it for each of my grants, but it doesn’t require a lot of brain power and it must be done. The fact that I have to do it due to system limitations is an irritation but frankly, I need this type of task right now, so it’s actually a good weakness.

Every time I start to get cocky and think that the diagnosis is wrong, along comes that humbling moment where the pain starts up again. I know that I shouldn’t let my stress get too big or my sleep get too poor or my hydration fail. If I do, I get knocked down hard.

I want to be energetic. I want to get rid of the brain fog and feel sharp again. I want to be focused. I want to be moved and have my sweet little new place where the kids and I can find some peace. I want to be closer to Spicy Ginger so that each time seeing him isn’t a giant bunch of coordination. I’d like to walk across the drive and say, “here’s something I just cooked… taste”

I’d like to talk to the chickens in the morning as I drink my hot cup of something that won’t kill my tummy. I want to swear at the weeds and tell them they are assholes. I think that would be therapeutic. I want to do the laundry without having to walk through one of the kids’ rooms to do it. I want to open up my garage door on the weekends, with the music streaming out, and putter in the yard. I want to crawl into bed at the end of the day and cuss a little bit that I’m sleeping in the living room, then I’ll look at the soft curtains in my windows and my organized home and be at peace.

I’m not an organized person. I’m messy and I get distracted. I’m nearly always tired and I want to be good, but sometimes I’m sharp-tempered and testy. I like simple. I like soft. I like peace. I feel like I’ve been swimming against the current for years and I just don’t have it in me anymore. I’d like to be a nice little old lady some day, but not too soon. I’m fretting over my kids and I don’t know that fretting really helps them.

So yeah. My spoons are wiped out. Maybe I had too few to begin with and life has left me with just a few of them and they are mismatched.

Time to get those reports pulled and to try to salvage this week. Then it’s packing and hoping that the move comes together before I lose my freaking mind.

Moonfire