Grief is a fickle mistress...

Today feels like a big 'ole ball of emotional train wreck.

Good news (there is almost always good news haha) - Two snow days and a looming 3 day weekend for MLK day, and it feels like mini-vacation with five days off! Woot!

I just sent Dan off for 10 days in Florida to visit his friend Pam, have a bit of vacation, and get paperwork hopefully completed for a Jeep we bought from her a couple of years ago. In other Dan news, he FINALLY saw a doctor who SAW who he is and received an upgrade to his disability rating. January saw the start of that new retirement check and it was a much needed relief for me. 

As I'm writing this, I'm listening to a wood chipper destroy a tree in our next door neighbors yard. Dan had mentioned to me recently that the tree was dying and needed to be removed. We had talked about...the original owner of that home, Mrs. Priest, I am sure she's gone now, but I'm sure she's twisting in her grave. She kept such a beautiful yard! They were a very traditional family, perhaps the only I remember growing up, where Mr. Priest went to work every day and Mrs. Priest tended the home and garden. She always had immaculate flower beds, neatly trimmed and seasonally appropriate. kept the edging in her flower beds trimmed with the utmost care, and mowed her lawn every week with a push hand mower. They were Renaissance people. She never drove, and she always wore a dress, never pants. At least three times a week, she would walk to church at St. Alberts, the Catholic church a couple of blocks from our street. 

I KNOW, with the logical part of my brain that everything has a life, a life-cycle even, and likewise, that everything dies. However, what happened today feels like another thing that is a part of my history that will just be gone. When I looked outside and saw them chopping up that tree, I just started crying. 

In many way, I feel like I am literally cleaning out my life, my house, my existence. In some ways, as I get older, this is inevitable. I keep telling my son that I don't want to leave a mess for him. Part of this, I think, is natural, as we get older. I am in my mid-50's. I try to live healthy, and hopefully I have many more years ahead of me, but the bottom line is, if I live as long as my mom, I have 22 year left. The clock is ticking and I have so much living still to do! There is lots and lots and lots of grief, feeling, and loss to unpack and process!

I just read something that resonated deeply with me. "I am in a humbling process. The root of the word is 'humus' -- the rich material of leaves and exoskeletons and waste all lovingly broken down by mycelial and microbial action into the sweet, fertile darkness of soil (mis-typed soul...coincidence?) that births life on this planet. 

I am welcoming the humbling process as I bathe my true self in love and give myself the time and space I need to truly thrive in deeper ways." FG

That's all, today.

Peace.