I was awake till the wee hours writing this morning’s post. I kept drifting off then wake and read what I’d written. Ha! One should not sleep and post at the same time. I would swear I posted it to appear at 4am like always but it is nowhere to be found. I was writing about The Work by Byron Katie. If you are unfamiliar with her, Google her. She has a pragmatic system of self-discovery that I have found useful in my journey. Check her out!
“No WiFi”
What did we do without it? How on earth did we raise our kids when they didn’t have a cell phone permanently glued to their heads? And selfies? Are you kidding me? Ok, I’m 61 and I’m all about the technology. I’ve been a techie since 1984 when I saw my first “home computer”…a funny box with a glowing green screen that wasn’t much more than a glorified typewriter. We got our first computer with the 5" floppy disks in 1986. OMGosh! You could play Pong on it!!! lol
“And I thought this was getting under control!!!”
I’ve worked in here for two weeks since the last picture and it STILL looks like this! But it’s getting organized anyway. Most of what I’m taking with me is in plastic tubs and a few boxes for easy packing/shipping. Progress!!!
I wrote today’s post and hit send instead of scheduling it for 4am like I always do so I thought I’d do another quick one.
“Mr. Virgo sends me bluebirds. First, at his grave. Then…everywhere!”
I was sitting at the cemetery yesterday morning enjoying my morning coffee and having breakfast with Mr. Virgo. It was a perfect Colorado blue blaster day…not a cloud in the sky. I was reminded of a time last year when I came here. I was sitting in the car beside his grave, crying my eyes out. I felt so alone and asked God and Mr. Virgo to send me a sign every time I come so I know they’re out there watching over me. I don’t know if Mr. Virgo sees me, but I do know God does. As soon as I made my request, I heard a bird singing close by. I turned and there was a bluebird sitting on the post right beside me singing away and looking at me, cocking it’s head this way and that. Now every time I go to the cemetery, at least one bluebird comes to this post and sings to me. Yesterday, for about five minutes, there were several of them all around me. I sat there with the door open and they even came and sat on the door and the rear view mirror! And see who came to sit on my post? It was so beautiful. And just as fast as they came, they were gone. I always feel closer to Mr. Virgo when they are nearby. Now, the true test will be if they come to see me in WV. Or maybe I won’t need them as much. We can’t test God like the fleece in the Bible. But I love, love, love it when He shows me He is there. It is always personal. <3
“Commemorative Photo of 40”
Ok, who had a boudoir photo taken? They were all the rage in the ’90s. I had to have one! Partially because I’m such an….ummm, extrovert! But also because at any given moment, we are the youngest we will ever be. This was taken when I was turning 40. I wanted to memorialize that static moment in my life when everything was perfect. My marriage, my family. My body, my hair. I was in the best shape of my life. My little girl was 4. My big girl was 20. I remember lovely afternoons stitching with my girlfriends, not a care in the world. Planning dinner parties was a monumentous occasion. This was before the ravages of depression and Prozac took away my youth. My ex-husband kept this photo on the wall in his office. It was the Camelot years.
“Hello, September!”
I love it when you get the opportunity to correct something right away. I was at church yesterday talking to one of the greeters. I told her how the initial contract fell through and she asked me what happened. I was just about to say something uncomplimentary about the people who walked away from the contract when I turned around and there they were! I had invited them to come since they were just returning to the area after being away for awhile. So, what did I do? I told my friend…“Don’t you just hate it when you want to be bad, but you have to be good?” I excused myself, went up to the couple, welcomed them to New Hope, gave her a warm hug, and told her I really hope they find the perfect house for them. She said she was worried for me because she knew I was in a hurry to get out. I told her there wasn’t a problem because the house was under contract less than 24 hours afterwards. I told her I held no ill will and wish them the very best. And so…there it is. An opportunity taken and it felt good.
“Fear does not prevent death. It prevents life.”
Ok, I have what appears to be a solid contract. I’m getting the ephemera down to a manageable level…key word - getting. Now it’s time to let go of my furniture. I have been very proud of my furniture. A few pieces were bought new. I have never had such good quality furniture in my life and there are pieces I love. Like the little round breakfast table and four chairs. And the red painted cabinet. The sofa is rich red and gold, down filled, huge, and comfy. While the bedroom set is way too big for the bedroom, it is beautiful and impressive…and from Mr. Virgo. But, these things can’t go with me. In order to take them, I would need to have them moved or make two trips or have someone drive my car with TOW-Wanda and I’d follow with a U-Haul. There are several reasons these are not viable options, the biggest of which are the expense involved and the lack of room in the farmhouse. Mine isn’t “farmhouse” furniture anyway.
“All great changes are preceded by chaos.” Deepak Chopra
And….we’ve got another contract!
I think this one is a winner! A young couple with a brand new baby born one week ago put a contract on the house yesterday. A little more money than the other offer but that didn’t seem to be the bottom line in this transaction.
I got the offer first thing in the morning. My initial instinct was to counteroffer…again. But I forced myself to sit still and feel what I was feeling in my bones and ask myself some important questions. Which would feel better….asking for more money or being grateful a lovely young family would live in my house? If they couldn’t afford more money and they walked, how would that make me feel if I had to sit and wait several months on another buyer? Was that little bit more really worth it in the long run? If I resorted to renting it again, am I willing to run the risk of damages to the house and lawn? Am I willing to worry whether the renters would pay the rent? What if there was a major repair or appliance that needed replacing? Where would that extra money come from? When it comes down to it, my initial investment in this house grew substantially bigger than it would have in some other investments I could have made. And…it’s not all about the money and it’s not all about me. This young family is thrilled they’re getting this house to raise their baby in. My next door neighbors are thrilled because they had a new baby a couple of weeks before my buyers and there will be playmates and new friendships to be made.
“Scrambled Brain Syndrome” aka “Grief Brain”
I swear, my brain is scrambled. I don’t hold onto info like I used to. I have to make lists. My decision making skills are practically non- existent. I feel strongly about something then two days later it’s something completely different. And, I don’t think it’s just me.
I have heard from countless widows who all say the same thing. Their thinker is broken. They make really poor decisions. They do things that are totally out of character. Research has shown that the IQ of a grieving person can drop to as low as the fourth grade. Add memory loss to that and it just isn’t a pretty picture. I mean, it’s certainly better than it was the first year. I honestly don’t remember great swaths of it. Which is nature’s way of protecting us, I suppose.
“A card I gave my mother when she asked for peace of mind.”
When I was a little girl, I asked my mom what she wanted for Mother’s Day. She told me she wanted “peace of mind “. She was so overwhelmed. She not only had my dad to deal with (see yesterday’s post) but my brother had a developmental disability and I am sure I was a handful. I was probably about 10 or 11 when I made this Mother’s Day card for my mom. I knew perfectly well she meant PEACE and not PIECE, but I couldn’t help myself…it was too easy! It reminds me of my younger daughter. She was so precocious. She never related to kids her own age because they didn’t get her sense of humor. One year in probably 7th grade, she came home all excited because she came up with a great Halloween costume. She wouldn’t tell me what it was… Just that she needed a ladies slip and some iron on letters. OK. The next day I got her a slip that wouldn’t be huge on her and some black iron on letters. She grabbed them and the iron and took off upstairs. About an hour later she came down and I about fell off my chair laughing.