Selling out

My house went on the market today. I can’t describe it. “Weird” is all I can come up with but it doesn’t begin to really sum it up. Today I realized I have lived in the house we built for HALF MY LIFE. Really? I never thought of it this way until now.

A few years ago, we talked about selling out. Too much property, too much house, too much maintenance. This was always where we were going. Now, it’s just going our separate ways. So why is it so hard?

Because my heart was in it. My children, my marriage, my LIFE. I will never look back and think, did I do enough? I did. I gave to the other 4 people loved with my all my heart. A piece of me, of my being, will always be lodged in that land. From the Cedar Circle, my personal love, a stand of cedars, made perfect by my grandson Lukan who created a firepit for me, to fruit trees and deer, owls and eagles. Ahhhh, so hard to let it go but I can’t hang on to it all anymore.

But it’s time to move on. Maybe there’s another piece of my life that I just never understood till now that awaits me. I trust in that. Gotta.


Lone wolf

So it turns out that shuffling your life upside down and inside out, can make you a bit reflective and reticent. At almost 64, I’m discovering there’s only one person that really loved me in my life, my mom. She’s been gone for 37 years. And I now know I’ve struggled to find love for all those years. I know, it sounds pitiful. I’ve searched in the form of a narcissistic husband who, truly did love me the best he could but in the end, left me more depleted.

I love my kids and I see they really are the culmination of their breeding and upbringing, as dysfunctional as it was. I tried to love them but was crippled by all the warpedness (is that a word?) of his issues and mine. One child can compartmentilize like no other, one checks out, the next is just angry. As you talk to your kids as adults, you find their impression of their childhood isn’t how you thought you orchestrated it.

So I’ve failed. I think we all fail to some degree. I raised my kids, now adults, before social media. I had no expectations like social media now puts on people. Did my my mom think she failed? Did she even worry about it? She was putting one foot in front of the other, I think. A little like I do or did, not worrying about the BS today’s parents do.

The moral of the story is at almost 64 yrs old I am not over my mom dying so long ago, I never regained the feeling of any love after that and I’m depleted. This all sounds pathetic and I don’t mean it to. Its just part of the process of getting to know myself. As my “new” life unfolds and develops, I’m finding I need to only depend on myself because in the end, that’s all we can count on. I wanted to be a part of a pack but maybe a lone wolf is where it’s at.

Adrift in a sea of choices

When you start any new endeavor, there’s excitement, newness, trepidation for what’s next. While I have not questioned leaving my life I had crafted and lived for 40 years, now here I am and now what?

I’m helping out with kids, doing bus drop and pickup, grocery shopping, laundry, household chores. This is my contribution to this new household and situation. I’m happy to do it, I chose this. My social life has become busy: dinner or lunch with different friends, other events I’m free to enjoy. Living much closer to town allows a quick pop in here or there. There’s a personal freedom that I never allowed myself before. And I love it!

But, and there always is a but, there’s chaos and uncertainty, an unsettled and fleeting feeling of lack of roots or permanence. As my daughter starts projects, from painting to landscaping, room reorganization to furniture purchases, I’m noticing a void I didn’t expect to feel. This is HER home, HER project and I guess I’m a little adrift.

I had a home and while I did not have an equal partnership, I had a place to do these things, to a degree. Without a space besides my own bedroom here, my creativity has to find a new place to live, much like myself a few months ago.

Now that all the initial chaos of moving has abated, I’m starting to look ahead to where I’ll go eventually on my own. And I just don’t know where that is and what it looks like. I’m not very patient sometimes and I want answers. I’m trying to give myself space and time to heal my heart and soul, and truly that’s the biggest goal. But (there it is again, BUT) as I look at small rv’s for sale, look at local and out of state real estate listings, I’m taking in options, wondering what’s next.

It’s hard to stop. Breathe. Settle. Trying not to peer around the corner. Wait for it to reveal itself. So I do. Stay tuned

Hi I’m Leslie and I’m homeless

I have been living with my daughter and 2 grandchildren, being the “granny nanny”, getting one on and off the school bus, picking the other up as needed, some cooking, housework, grocery shopping, etc. You get the idea. I am trying to get used to this new life. I still don’t question having left, it was still the right thing to do. We are mutually helping each other. And it seems to be working somewhat.

Late afternoon, a woman comes to the door. She tells me her name is Leslie and she’s homeless. She has her minivan parked out on the street and she wanted to be respectful. She only stays 1 night anywhere because she doesn’t want to upset people. She says she made some bad decisions and she’s saving for a home. She’s clean, not on drugs as far as I see. I tell her it’s not my home so I can’t say stay or go.

So Meg gets home and we talked the rest of the night about this. We have a terrible homeless problem here in Olympia. Encampments full of trash, tarps, stolen shopping carts. I want to help those that want to help themselves. We drive by this daily, we see but it doesn’t touch us. But wait until the best of this type of situation wants to stay in front of YOUR home.

A person works hard to get ahead, have a home to raise your kids in, and in my daughter’s case, left an alcoholic husband and started over with little but some savings and her mother 😉. On one hand, we’ve talked about how we’d help those that want it, but then when she’s literally parked near you, do you? Do we protect ourselves because of fear? Will she bring her friends? Will our dead end street become the new “jungle” as they call one of the encampments? But what if she IS the kind of person who made some wrong decisions, who is respectful, is just trying to get on her feet? It really was a moral decision for me.

In the end, I walked out to talk to her after dinner, asked if there was anything I could do for her. She was all tucked in to her van with space blankets to hold the heat. We spoke with the doors closed, because she’d lose what heat she had. She’s saving for a place. She has a retirement. I wished I’d asked more about shelters and why her car is preferable.

We never know what situation might arise. That could be a lot of people, living on a razor thin edge. We don’t know how we’ll react in a given scenario, will I call the police because I’m uncomfortable, feeling the need to protect my family and home? Or will I reach out, with a kind word, a smile and a $20 bill, letting her know we gave her peace for 1 night?

The final paragraph is, I left in the morning (bus duty, you know) and when I came back late morning, she was gone. It’s likely I’ll never know what becomes of Leslie. I hope and wish for her to rebuild, to become solvent, able to spend every night in one place, that’s safe and hers. Because that’s all any of us ever want, safety and security. So tonight when you lay your head down, be grateful, that’s my hope for all of us. It’s all too easy to take it for granted. Peace on ya ❤

Life reimagined

I knew it had been a while since I even looked at my own blog. But almost 3 years, that’s a while, plus some. To say I had writer’s block is quite the understatement. But here I am.

So where did I even leave off? We had been snow-birding to Arizona in our 5th wheel, Helen. And then (insert eerie music), coronavirus, covid 19, the ‘rona, hit. The unknown was off the chart, fear reigned, people died, were sick, lives changed, and paper products hard to come by. The summer of 2020, we stayed home, made a killer garden for canning, living off the land. When society failed, we’d be ready!

We took on medical procedures, taking care of business. Meanwhile my brain and heart underwent a transformation of sorts. Life was short, getting shorter. My tolerance for BS became even shorter. All the things I had smoothed over, fixed, ignored, now took on a life of their own. A life that I had no room for.

I struggled with my life path as it was changing. I had invested 40 years with the cowboy, downplayed the bad, built up the good. But the fear of change was now eclipsed by the fear of complacency.

As I write this, I am leaving the home I’ve been in for 30+ years. Leaving behind the life and man I committed to 40 years ago. I know it’s the right decision, but there’s a niggling fear, that self doubt we all undertake when stepping off the ledge, can be daunting. There’s so much about all this I could share, but right now I’m processing it myself. And truly, this is probably not real interesting or entertaining. If I still had any followers, I might have just lost ya, lol. But bear with me while I ramble along. I feel my “writing juices” starting back up, I hope! I may not be rambling rv style now, but that may be in the picture, down the road. For now, I’m healing my heart, my soul, the life I have left. Next time I’ll share more of where I’m at physically and emotionally. Till then, gratitude at ya!

Stay tuned