STONE SOUP: Ramblings

Labour Day 2008

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 12:49:24 GMT

School starts tomorrow. My friend Dorothy is feeling very antsy because she is not going back to school this year. That brought back memories of my first retirement in 1973. I was 8 months pregnant. Doug and I had bought a house, he had accepted a career position at the Douglas Point nuclear plant, and the endless possibilities of life stretched out before us. I was happy with my choices. Nonetheless, on the first day of school, I sat on the escarpment, watching the students converge on the school building, and cried and cried.

I am working on my third retirement now. This one is a little different, because I never actually had a job. For the past 12 years, I have been keeping the bench warm, waiting for the real organist to show up. The last 5 or 6 years, I have been doing parish work for 10-15 hours a week, and leading services on alternate Sundays. I have done a lot of preaching, singing, and hand-holding. Currently, I am living between two addresses. I am at the old one now, planning to do some housecleaning, finish my packing, and then haul another load of stuff to the new address. There, I have to do some exterior painting, wood-stacking, organizing, gardening, and finding places for the stuff I hauled. I am leaving for one more trip to Victoria on September 17, and will be bringing my mother back to live with us on September 24. In May, my husband will become a permanent resident at the new address, and the Moose Capital phase of our lives will be officially over.

It is a relief to be clear of the stress of service preparation and fretting about the future of the parish. I love my new house. I'm worried that I will turn into Cinderella, trying to keep both my husband and my mother happy.

One of these days, I will find a comfortable place to sit, and cry and cry. Tears of loss, but also tears of hope. A new life is beginning.

Free at last!

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 03:39:22 GMT

Yesterday was a red-letter day. My car is finally free from its icy prison.

We have a one-car garage, so my car is parked in the driveway next to the house. Usually, when I blow the snow out of the driveway, I move my car out, clean the space, and put the car back. While my sweetie was in the hospital in January, I started driving his car, because it was more convenient, and it has better snow tires. After he came home and was recuperating, he didn't need his car, so I kept driving it.

When I finally tried to get it out, I discovered that the snow had melted and re-frozen into ice. The wheels were enclosed in blocks of ice. At one point, even the exhaust was plugged.

I made several attempts to get it out, to no avail. Even my sweetie tried. I had no choice but to wait until the ice had melted.

Now I know that it really does matter whether I clean up the snow around my parking spot.

Spring really is on the way. There are still snowbanks, but the grass is starting to look green in places, and there are two crocuses in the flower bed. It's been a long wait. April Showers are just a metaphor here. Try April Blizzards.

Loneliness

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 14:32:05 GMT

There are many kinds of loneliness. There is the loneliness we feel when a beloved friend of family member has deserted us; the loneliness we feel when we must make a difficult decision; the loneliness of the long-distance runner whose fans can cheer him on, idolize him, and shower him with rose petals, but cannot run his race for him.

When we are facing the prospect of change, we may experience anticipatory loneliness. Relationships will no longer be what they were. Even if they change for the better, there will be nostalgia for the "good old days", which often seem idyllic in retrospect.

When my mother was facing her retirement years, she vowed to make two new friends for each one who died or moved away. Now that she is 85, she says that she's too tired to make the effort. For the elderly, mere survival becomes a fountain of loneliness.

The loneliness associated with spiritual crisis is a yearning for deeper relationship. This kind of loneliness must be allowed to run its course. There are no eggs with wings.

Playing Hospital

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 16:35:09 GMT

If you've been visiting Stone Soup lately, you may be wondering if I died. I didn't, but my husband almost did. On January 9. he was admitted to hospital with unhappy kidneys. After some very rough days and a Lear jet trip to Timmins for a CT scan, he was released on the 14th. Since then, my life has been a round of blood pressure and blood glucose monitoring, medication changes, medical appointments, dietary discussions, and assorted nursing duties.

I don't mind playing hospital. But I want to be the doctor, not the nurse. You know, that person with the clipboard who stays for three minutes, asks strange questions, and then leaves incomprehensible orders for others to carry out. The nurse is the one that has to try to interpret those orders, do everything on schedule despite other crises that may be unfolding down the hall, field endless questions from the patient and worried family members, and put up with the patient's moods until the shift is over.

Fortunately, I have only one patient. He is able to feed himself without assistance, and he is only intermittently grouchy. Things are getting better all the time. Things are getting better all the time. Things are get. . . . . . . .

Life Alphabet

Sun, 30 Dec 2007 21:02:43 GMT

This is my life alphabet for 2008. A life alphabet is an interesting alternative to new year's resolutions.

http://www.helium.com/tm/764047/alphabet-2008appreciate-moment-advise

I had elaborate resolution for 2007, and forgot most of them, probably because I didn't want to admit that I wasn't doing what I planned. The general direction we MAKE 2007 THE BEST YEAR I CAN. I don't know if I actually succeeded in that, but it's over now, and time to look ahead down another corridor.

What do I want do in 2008? You saw it here first.

1. Remember that life happens here and now, not in the past or future.

2. Buy no new clothes (if necessary, I can get my shopping fix from buying used clothes).

3. Get a passport.

4. Publish my fantasy book, "The Return of the Dragonhawk."

My Alphabet for Life

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 22:43:31 GMT

When I was leafing through the Acorn catalogue (distance shopping is a major activity for us people in isolated communities), I found an Alphabet for Life Plaque -- "An A-to-Z guide to mindful living, case in resin with a marble-like finish and ready to hang." Only $35 US.

This is the type of item I generally buy in the Dollar Store for $2.95. But it did get me thinking.

Here is their list:

Accept differences

Be kind

Count your blessings

Dream

Express thanks

Forgive

Give freely

Harm no one

Imagine more

Jettison anger

Keep considences

Love truly

Master something

Nurture home

Open your mind

Pack lightly

Quell rumors

Reciprocate

Seek wisdom

Touch hearts

Understand

Value Truth

Win graciously

Xeriscape

Yearn for peace

Zealously support a worth cause

My list:

Argue against abuses of power

Bend rigid rules

Catch rainbows

Delegate responsibility

Eat mindfully

Feed the imagination

Give graciously

Hold onto love

Irrigate dry hearts

Jump for joy

Keep beautiful memories

Laugh whenever possible

Meet fear head-on

Never say never

Open windows

Pet friendly animals

Question absolutes

Resist evil

Save the environment

Take time to listen

Use unlikely exits

Veer away from the expected

Xerox vital documents

Zoom past Shouldville

Hmmm. That was fun. Maybe I should try that more often. It could turn out to be an excellent mood barometer.