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Crazy as a Loom

Thursday, February 6, 2025

Starting over

It really is a fact, that we can start over just about any time that we want to.
Of course, we are stuck with who we are, to an extent anyway.
This is who I was born, and this is who I will be until the end.

I don't have time or inclination to "discover" who I am.
I am who I have always been.




But along the way, we modify, we adapt, and we change, do we not???

I have just recently realized that a change has occurred.
It snuck up on me, and I have to say, I'm glad.

For almost three years now, I have missed my husband and the life we had together.
It wasn't perfect, but it was our life, and I was good with it.
Then he suddenly died, and my world tipped on its axis.

I have thought on occasion that I was ok, and then immediately realized that I 
clearly was not.
I have oft times since his passing, been obsessed with the thought of dying,  still seeing my best friend
in his chair, having left this world while I was gone.
In the blink of an eye, his life was done, and my life was totally different.

I have plugged along.  I have done everything that was in front of me, I have managed.
Some might even say that I have persevered.
But in so many ways, I felt that joy was an elusive feeling, that I was not privy to anymore.

All this time, I have been sleepwalking, doing what I had to do.




Then most recently, my children have been encouraging me to leave my house, sell it, move closer to them, in a house that was smaller, and not so much work.
They espoused their reasons.  They could be of more help to me being closer.  I would see more of them.  My life would be easier.  I wouldn't be alone.  It was time.

I went along for a while.  I even showed my house to a realtor.  I even looked at a house closer to them.   I receive daily listings of houses that might "suit" me.

Then I woke up.  Came to.  Turned a corner.  Pulled through.  Was on the mend. Rallied.  Snapped out of it. Came out of the woods.  Got back on my feet.  Looked up.  Got better.

Whatever you call it, I realized that though the sadness will always be there,  that life is over.
He is gone.  I am here.
I AM OK.

But more than that.   I'm really ok.
I'm grateful.
I'm happy.
I'm content with my life, just as it is.

I am settling into something that I find I have needed my whole life.
To be on my own, in my own skin, without the reflection of another human being on a 
daily basis.

This may sound awful.  Heartless, even.

But damn, if it isn't the truth.

I look back on 77 years and thought on how often  a MAN was daily computed into the fabric of my life, starting with my father.
I realize that now, for the first time ever, that it is not true for me.  Not at all.

I cook when I want, eat when I want, nap and sleep on my schedule, I clean or I don't.
I am totally answerable to only myself.
(and sometimes 2 dogs)

It is an amazing feeling, and I feel incredibly glad for it.  I didn't ask for it, I didn't look for it, but here it is.
And I love it.




No, I do not want to sell my house.  I do not want or need a smaller or an easier house.  Not now, not yet.
I am complete, if older, just as I am.

I feel like I've just returned from a very long trip.
And I am so glad to be back.




6 comments:

Rita said...

*loving, happy hugs from Fargo* :) :)

Anonymous said...

Good. For you, love your weaving and your sharing. Be happy.

A Brit in Tennessee said...

I couldn't think of selling my home where all those memories have been made throughout the years. It would be a comfort to me, being surrounded by those memories.
I'm glad to hear that you are thriving once again, continue with your beautiful weaving and enjoy life.
Hugs,
~jo

deodar said...

Good for you! It's coming on 7 years since my husband died. Yes I hate that he's gone, yes, I miss him every day, yes, sometimes I resent being totally in charge of upkeep and maintenance but you know what? I'm ok, and I will be ok. I truly hope to leave my old farm house feet first and I truly hope to have my horses, dogs, chickens and whatever til the very end. We were happy together but we were two individuals, not needing the other to be complete.

Joanne Noragon said...

The loss finally becomes a part of who you are. You are carrying on wonderfully.

Shepherdess55 said...

You are an inspiration to those of us who will some day be walking the same path.

Welcome to my world.

Because every thread counts

Because every thread counts