happy right now
I stay angry about the health care disaster in the US. Tuesday I'm admitting Daddy to an assisted living center. My stepdaughter won't speak to me, and insists I fired her, when she actually quit of her own accord. My middle sister had a wreck with someone uninsured, of course. My nephew's recovery from back surgery isn't going all that well.
So what's to be happy about right this minute? I'm trying, and the fact of being able to escape the US in the next 6-8 months fills me with joy. To remember my future home, I watch this a lot.
Things are steadily leaving the house. I remember when I obsessed over finding one of these:
The hunt for a plump, red, Riviera tea pot consumed me for years, long before the internet improved the odds of finding one. Mine's going to Ohio, along with a pair of the Riviera handled tumblers that fueled my relapse into Riviera obsession twenty years ago. I'd collected Riviera in the mid-'70s, then sold the bits I had. Once I found the pair of tumblers for a dollar each, I was hooked again. Now I can't even remember why I cared. At all.
It's hard to believe such a passion could simply vanish, but if I could wave a wand and have all of the stuff I've devoted half a lifetime to collecting suddenly disappear (leaving behind a cash equivalent, of course), I'd be thrilled.
I just heard from our attorney in Merida and he okayed doing some minor construction now. "Take possession," he said. "It will be better to do a little bit now. The house is yours." Sounds good to me.
I took possession of that little beach cottage in my heart and soul the instant I walked in the door. Tonight I'll go to sleep thinking of the day I'll wake up to the sound of waves right outside my window. I can't wait. It keeps me happy right now.
So what's to be happy about right this minute? I'm trying, and the fact of being able to escape the US in the next 6-8 months fills me with joy. To remember my future home, I watch this a lot.
Things are steadily leaving the house. I remember when I obsessed over finding one of these:
The hunt for a plump, red, Riviera tea pot consumed me for years, long before the internet improved the odds of finding one. Mine's going to Ohio, along with a pair of the Riviera handled tumblers that fueled my relapse into Riviera obsession twenty years ago. I'd collected Riviera in the mid-'70s, then sold the bits I had. Once I found the pair of tumblers for a dollar each, I was hooked again. Now I can't even remember why I cared. At all.
It's hard to believe such a passion could simply vanish, but if I could wave a wand and have all of the stuff I've devoted half a lifetime to collecting suddenly disappear (leaving behind a cash equivalent, of course), I'd be thrilled.
I just heard from our attorney in Merida and he okayed doing some minor construction now. "Take possession," he said. "It will be better to do a little bit now. The house is yours." Sounds good to me.
I took possession of that little beach cottage in my heart and soul the instant I walked in the door. Tonight I'll go to sleep thinking of the day I'll wake up to the sound of waves right outside my window. I can't wait. It keeps me happy right now.
Labels: beach house, daddy, escape, fucking dementia, Yucatan
posted by BigAssBelle at 10:04 PM
8 Comments:
I couldn't be happier for you. I'm amazed at your brave change. You're going to love it.
And, at the same time, I'm sorry about the stress and heartbreak that your dad's condition brings. You know you're making the best decision in a really hard situation.
Good luck with family stuff.....we all have it........but keep the happy going, because you will be living it soon....and well deserved! As we get older stuff isn't as important as experiences.....
The Yucatan video is intoxicating - I really wish you all the best for this next stage of your lives and I'm so inspired to visit the area.
I love your insight into giving up those objects that have consumed our attention for so long in the past. The hunting out and nesting instincts runs so deep. I'm still mired in my possessions at the moment but I KNOW how good it feels to slough them off (I can't think of a primal equivalent for de-cluttering - perhaps the human race IS evolving after all?)
I know how much you must have agonised over placing your Father so I'm confident that it's the right decision. From the loving way you've written about him I'm sure he's the type of man who would never want to stand in the way of your happiness.
Oh, by the way, the new cottage.... it's got an internet connection, yes?????
There's always something else to collect (oh how I know this), and you'll find something in your new life too. It's good to "clear the table" every so often.
Keeping good thoughts for you and your dad. My partner's dad is at the beginning of Alzheimers, and it's breaking my heart.
Yay for doing a little construction now. It'll just be that much better when you move.
I LOVE the sights and sounds of the Yucatan! I'll be driving my RV thru there in 2011, looking for another place in the sun.
Goodbye, chains of possession. Now you can collect the colors and scents of Mexico.
I was a caretaker for both my parents for years, the only one as I was the only child. You do the best you can each day, and each day presents new challenges. No one but you can decide how that gets done, not unless they are also expending effort. And no one, reading your blog, would ever imagine that you would do less than your best in a horrible situation over which you have no control. You may be called "Big Ass Belle", but honey, there is nothing half assed about you. Don't ever think that guilt has any place in your decision making. You act from love - its so obvious.
Sometimes, you can't do the "best" you want to do, because the situation only allows the "best" that can be. None of us gets to control the horrible diseases. We just have to play the awful hands we get dealt with as much grace and honesty as we can. Your father is so fortunate to have you.
Huge Hugs,
Linda
Waking to the sound of waves? You will wake to me on the porch singing "i gotta be free. i gotta be freeeee. It's the only way to beeeee. I gotta be free." I will be dressed in white linen pants and comb the wind through my hair and curl my toes in the sand and say "thanks for teaching me to do this Lynette."
It might be better for you to see your family occasionally from here on out. At your choosing i might add.
Quit telling people about Merida!!!! That's like the spiritual center of my universe. And in that universe, at 5' 8" - I get walk tall. I've been going there for years...alone. The Yucatan is one of the most magical places on the planet - and you know I've seen a lot of the planet. I think I've said it before here - damn I love that place. I've conspired and conspired about getting to live there. Getting to imagine through you is a gift! But shhhhh. Don't tell everyone. Too many gringos and I won't be tall anymore. I can't wait to share a beer with you at some street-side taco stand where the al pastors are still $3 a plate.
I hear you. As you know from FB, I've kind of fallen out of bloggerville, so I'm uberlate commenting, but will probably jump back in after my own move, when stress doesn't rule my life and I can write from a sunnier, happier clime.
I hear you about the possessions ... I made the decision to basically do a clean sweep and get rid of everything before heading off to CR. The thought alone is exhilarating, freeing ...
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