Ok, so if you’re reading this post looking for Clint Eastwood, than I’m terribly sorry he isn’t here. You may leave now.
Still here? Good. Hi there. I’m back. Again. Consistency is definitely not my middle name. But life has been a bit of a roller coaster here and I’m still recuperating in a lot of ways.
If you’re tired of my excuses and really don’t care where I’ve been, this is now YOUR turn to duck out along with the Clint Eastwood fans.
So where to start?
Let’s start with all the bad, which ironically is just how this story goes chronologically as well.
Back in January, I swore that 2018 was going to be my year. 2017 had been pretty terrible and I was absolutely desperate for some silver lining action. The universe cackled.
We received a notice that the home we lived in (which had been in foreclosure for some time) was finally, super officially bank owned and they wanted us out. Which, yes, we knew it was coming, however no matter how hard we tried, we just could not find a house that would work for us within our budget. Hands down, the most stressful situation, especially considering we have kids and animals and a whole life. 10/10 do not recommend.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the following night my grandmother called to tell me that my grandfather wasn’t doing well. She was going to spend the night with him because they were convinced that this was it. It was his time. So, I trekked to the nursing home and sat with my grandmother and aunt as we waited.
Now to add insight, my grandparents are two of the most important people in my life. They’ve played a huge role in my existence and I’ve literally spent my entire life dreading the day when I didn’t have them any longer. I knew that they were my grandparents and therefore would pass out of my life sooner than I wanted, but I couldn’t imagine a world without them.
So in other words I was living my nightmare.
My grandfather waited until the next morning when everyone left. He waited until he was alone to pass. He took a chunk of my heart with him.
I had assumed that when he passed, it would be easier. He had Lewy-Body Dementia, and hadn’t been himself for a long time. Which is weird, because you find yourself mourning the loss of someone who’s sitting right in front of you. I honestly couldn’t imagine anything worse. It had been a long, hard, emotional haul. Some would say that at least he wasn’t suffering anymore, but selfishly I just want to go back to the way things were before he got sick.
After the funeral, my brain started to separate him into two separate people: him before his illness and him after. My brain understood that the sick him had died, but in strange, confused moments, I imagined him well and sitting at home, eating his favorite snack while watching tv. I still struggle with this. There are experiences that I’ll never have with him again, and good God if that isn’t hard to wrap my head around.
Anyway, enough of that because once I get started, I don’t stop.
Fast forward a couple of months. We still haven’t found a house. We still can’t stay where we are. And it’s time to get out. Now here’s where I’d like to say we were totally prepared to leave and had everything packed and a truck rented. We didn’t. And though we are both guilty of putting it off, I couldn’t see past my own sadness to do what I needed to do. And we paid for it. We spent three days trying desperately to pack and move stuff out, and in the shuffle, so much was left behind. It came to a point where I had to constantly remind myself that it was just stuff and stuff can be replaced. I cannot tell you the last time I felt like such a failure. It was hard. So hard.
But! We at least had some place to stay until we got our own home and we ended up moving in with my dad while we continued the hunt. This meant driving my kids 40 minutes to school each morning and 40 minutes to get them in the afternoon, but seeing as it was April, I couldn’t see pulling them out of school for the last three months. Not to mention this was a big year for Slugger since it was his last in elementary school. There’s a big party and gifts and a graduation. I didn’t want to take that from him. So, drive them I did.
Thankfully we eventually found somewhere to live. It’s an adorable house. A cape built in the 20’s, but in good shape and the perfect size for us. The bummer? We have to move out of state. It’s incredibly bittersweet.
When I first moved in with my husband, I absolutely hated it. We were in the middle of nowhere. It took forever to get anywhere. Bugs. Dirt. Summer traffic. EVERYONE KNEW EACH OTHER BUT ME. But after 12 years, it grew on me.
My kids went to an amazing school. Their class sizes were tiny, so they got all the help they ever needed. We made friends. My kids played sports. I acclimated.
So now we leave for the suburbs, which is all I ever wanted, but a part of my heart will remain in that little town in the middle of nowhere.
Trust me though, it will not be hard to get used to having EVERYTHING within walking distance. (Almost. Sort of. There’s an ice-cream shop and a diner with in walking distance. Do you need more?) I’m excited. I am. I just wish it had played out differently.
SO the point is, we are still fixing up the house the way we want it and have yet to move most of our stuff in, but once we do, I’ll be back on the grind, filling you in with our new adventures.
If you’re still here, I appreciate you reading as I pour my heart out. There were tears shed here and it’s not always a pretty, happy, sunshine life. I said I would be transparent. Here it is.
I look forward to maybe, one day, being consistent. In the meantime, thanks for hanging in there.