End of the trail

Bear and I have been walking at the Oklahoma river for a few weeks.  He’s built up his endurance and we’ve increased our distance, starting with a mile and going from there. He told me he wanted to keep going and see how far the trail went and to see the end. And we have, from both sides of the bank of the Oklahoma river, from downtown to Portland and to Meridian.

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Portland end of the trail

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Meridian end of the trail

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Some of the stuff we’ve seen on our walks. We may walk again next weekend but it depends on the weather, if it isn’t too hot. He will be home for at least 2 weeks before he leaves for China and be there for about 2 years. At least he’s in good shape now, he says.

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One more

I’m serious about moving. The initial decision making period has passed and the actual working towards that goal has started. Not dramatically or with much to show but I am working on it.

I’ve applied for several job and received a couple of calls, unfortunately most are local recruiters trawling through monster.com  but I did get one from Seattle.  She was encouraging until I told her my current location, which explained why I couldn’t come in for an interview. My applications have been electronic but I also sent off a regular paper application with resume and cover letter, like the old days. I am trying to remain hopeful and to be patient.

I’ve also looked into the nitty gritty of moving my stuff 2,000 miles. I know it will be expensive to take everything I own. I went into the search with this in mind but still got sticker shock–an average of $2,000 from 2 different movers, or about a dollar a mile. Even after paring down my list of stuff to take it was this much, no telling what it would cost if I decided to bring the sofa, which is staying behind.

I began to break it down item by item, shipping the TV, my bed and dresser separately.  The dresser and TV are eligible but my bed will still cost more to send than it’s worth. I will be sending most of my books media and they are the cheapest best deal so far. I know I don’t want to give up everything  and my bed is very important to me,  important to Olive too since that’s where she spends most of her day. Yet knowing it will cost me roughly $500 to ship it when it cost about half that amount (it was on sale) I decided I’m going to let it go. Leave it to one of my sisters or if they don’t want it, to Goodwill. I’m going to leave a lot of stuff to Goodwill.

There’s something sad and frightening about this, not so much that I will need something I can easily replace but leave something that has emotional or sentimental value that I want or need. I plan to take pictures, as many as possible, even if they are just on flash drives. Especially pictures of Jerry and Bear. But will I miss and long for the little end tables that belonged to my aunt? They are among the few things I have left of her and while some stranger may give then a decent home they will not know how she arranged the lamp and candy dish or where the little Santa figures were placed at Christmas.

But things like my bed, which I will miss, can be left behind. The sofa, most of my furniture and kitchen stuff can stay and go to someone who can use them. I’m discovering how much I can do without. I just looked at my stuff and imagined having to pack it then decided if I would ship it or see if I could fit it in the car. That helped simplify matters fast.

I’m still undecided on the end tables.

My son is slowly going through his things as well. He’s donated 4 bags of clothes,  some he’s had since high school. He sold 4 boxes of books to Half Price. He still has a lot of crap. But he knows I’m moving and can’t take everything, even if I wanted. He knows home isn’t going to be the address he’s known for 12 years and when he returns from abroad we will both be changed.

On one hand I want to throw away, give away or donate just about everything. I want to clear the physical spaces here, to not have to clean, take care of or store anything. I want it gone.

On the other hand, or paw, I’m not sure. It will be expensive to replace stuff I already own. I may have need of something I can’t find again, one reason I’m taking the egg poacher. But there’s the worry that without my stuff wherever I go won’t feel like home.

I won’t face this until I find a job and a place to live. That may be awhile and I can make a lot of these decisions before I have to really pack up and leave. Though I hope it won’t be a very long wait.

When worlds collide

The playoffs really messed with my yoga. Games were inconveniently scheduled the same time my classes met. So I sacrificed my calm, flexibility and practice for anxiety, adrenaline and salty popcorn.

I feel the difference in my body. Besides the extra sodium, which made me bloat a little, I haven’t had the same energy and my right knee has complained, usually when going up stairs. I feel stiffer during the day and the urge to move in my whole body. Walking helped but it wasn’t enough.

The playoffs are over for my teams now, though they are still on-going. I could
have used the calming yoga brings this week too, when Babcock announced he’s leaving the Wings and going to Toronto. I’m okay now but I was stunned for about a day. However there was enough peace to get me through the night when I watched the end of the last hockey game our local team played and sadly lost. Maybe not peace as much as fatigue but I think I was resigned to it and most of the other fans were too. 

I should be at yoga but missed the morning class. There’s a level 1 vinyasa later that I’ll go to and I’ll start again. My balance has been wonky and I need to work on upper body strength. I need to make it a habit more than anything. As long as Tampa is still playing I ‘m still following the playoffs but it’s not the same. I still hope the Ducks take down the Hawks.

Go Wings!

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Being Alone

I’m  going to whine. With all the stuff I have to do– find a job in Seattle,  find an apartment there, relocate my little  household,  sell Jerry’s  car,  get Bear ready to leave for China, and just carry  on with  daily  life–this is what’s  bothering me. Being  alone, not just for now but the rest of my days.

I don’t  mean absolutely alone, not 100%, I hope to make friends over time. I am embarrassed to admit I am unhappy and disappointed that my romantic life is over.  It ended when Jerry died.

This isn’t without precedent; my two aunts and my great-grandmother were widows who lived long satisfying lives years after their husbands died and did not remarry. I hope to do the same. It will take time, among other things, but I  am trying to make my peace with it. So far it isn’t taking hold. I’m realistic and  know that  I’m an old broad and I don’t  want to take care of an old man, to be a nurse and a drudge. I don’t want to be one of those desperate old women who will chase anything male and breathing in pants.  I’ll spend my days (and nights) with a skittish Chihuahua instead.  It will be the best thing, the right thing.

I’ve heard stories about older people marrying, finding love and all that crap. I’m glad for them but I  know it’s not me.

The main reason is I had a good run with Jerry. He loved me, he put up with me and accepted me. He was a good father even though he had a horrible father himself. He was a good husband and he tried, he even told me I was beautiful when I darned well knew I wasn’t. I put up with some stuff too but he was the better and more tolerant one.

No one else will love me like he did. No one will treat me as kindly, with the same respect and be as good to me as he was. No one will be able to stand up to Bear’s scrutiny or compare to his father.

I know this the same way I know I’m  meant to be alone. It’s my natural state, really. But even so I’m not accepting it gracefully. Which surprises me, not my lack of graceful behavior but that this is such a big freaking deal. It shouldn’t be, I have longed for my freedom and independence from having to take care of Jerry and to do as I pleased. Now I got it and I’m not happy with it. What is up with that? Being old and alone is not unusual and somewhat expected. I knew this day would come but I did not expect to have this reaction to it. My ego kind of wants someone to tell me

nah, this isn’t it for you

,” but I wouldn’t believe it if they did.

I don’t feel jealous when I see couples in public. I don’t mind doing things or going places alone. Sometimes I prefer it.

What I do want is a partner, someone who will have my back, who I can trust and talk to, who gets my jokes and laughs anyway. Somebody I can feel comfortable around. Somebody who genuinely cares about and for me. My hormones have their requirements too,  specific ones that are difficult to fill especially for an old broad. If I was an old broad with a ton of money and no shame, well maybe (see Madonna and Drake).

I will come to that point where I finally accept being alone and be all right with it. I don’t expect to be overjoyed but a plain resignation on my part is enough,  to make my peace with the fact that this is how things are then get on with the rest of life. To be honest this is really just a small part of it. I need to remember that.