I know it is expected of me to write about the arrival of the California Dream. I don’t think I can do that here. I will break down in tears like I did the day she arrived. She was taking her sweet time and it pushed me over the edge to a spell in the hospital chapel crying and praying. Except now the tears would be bittersweet. Not knowing when I will touch her again is something I refuse to think about.
Our son’s grandmothers had the same dilemma. Our son was four weeks old when we left for California. And we definitely didn’t know when we would see each other again. Contact was a 15 minute long-distance phone call on Sunday afternoon and “snail mail”. I still have the piles of letters my mother and I exchanged.
Things are different for our situation now. Nevertheless, the need to catch a plane to get to her causes my heart to ache.
I am still fatigued from the trip. The all-day travel to then from California. The comfortable yet strange bed. The time difference. The anticipation. The anxiety. The excitement. The anguish.
I take photos of the foothills behind her house. In between my turn to hold her, I would go out and look at the hills again. The ever changing light makes them look different constantly. They are like my lake with their continual cycle of lights and shadows playing across them. I will try to go back to the lake tomorrow. Time to start walking again. And I need to tell the ghosts who linger there in my memory about the little one I am loving for them and for me.
I have heard a couple of songs on the radio recently. One is a current hit. One is from several years ago. The one from several years ago is about a woman questioning what she is doing with her life. I struggled with that for years. Why didn’t I finish college? What career path should I have taken?
I married early and had children. I had ill parents to tend. By the time, real opportunity came along for me to pursue something else, I didn’t have the resources to move on it. Resources aren’t just money. Time, energy, desire.
Perhaps it is the approach of middle age. Perhaps is it the imminent arrival of granddaughter number one and the fast approaching granddaughter number two. I am losing the sense of loss over missed opportunities.
The current song just made me recall my original dream. I don’t even know what about the song made me think what I did. All I ever wanted was to be a wife, mother and homemaker. I did all that along with a 9-5. My husband is my career and the 9-5 is a sideline.
I wouldn’t give myself a very good evaluation for my career performance right now. I have been sidetracked. I have this terrible weakness of allowing media-books, magazines, Pinterest-influence my decisions too greatly. I let the profit driven mass production world of commerce deceive me into thinking I am not in line with what is acceptable modern living. The problem develops because I cannot keep up with their standards and actually provide an appropriate lifestyle or living conditions for our real life household.
I am changing that already. I have made some decisions and some behavioral changes. I am having success with them. I feel better about a lot of things. My self-evaluation is having a positive effect of change.
Just be happy. He and his son have told me that. I am glad that line is sticking in my mind rather than the old one from a corny old movie. “Find and fulfil your destiny.” Nope. Create my destiny. Just be happy. Be wife. Be mama. Be granny. Be housekeeper. Be aunt. Be niece. Be cousin. Be sister. Be me.
I have Friday off from work. And nothing scheduled Saturday. Two days. I am working out things to have both days to devote to home keeping. Not housework. That should be completed by Thursday’s bedtime. The activity to which I am referring is more like making things pretty.
I have several projects lined up to create ornamental objects for the house. One is actually for Christmas decorating. I won’t reveal that at this time. I will have to see how it turns out before I publish it. A long while back I purchased some very large framed oil paintings super cheap from the thrift store. The subject matter is not why I bought them. I wanted the frames and the large sized canvases. I intend to gesso over them and put my own creations in place. I have no thought to do a painting. But, I do have an idea with which I want to experiment.
The weather is predicted to be pleasant enough to work outside. I hope to do a lot of catching up on the yard work. Every area is behind on care. I have good layer of pine straw in the front yard. I want to clean the azalea bed and mulch with the fresh straw. The purple jew is overflowing its area and I want to move it to a better spot. Weeds, weeds, weeds. I don’t even want to think about that topic right now. Yard work is excellent therapy for the mind and soul.
Part of my working out being able to stay home the two days was seeing someone this evening. Someone I love is in the hospital. I needed to see her tonight so I could have my two days without fretting about her. She seems a little improved. I told her I was coming. She said I didn’t need to go all that way. I told her I was coming anyway and could I bring her anything. A coke from Sonic.
I hope my coming helped her. It helped me. I recently saw a meme that reads: Find your tribe. Love them hard. I am defining my tribe. Redefining, I suppose. I want her to be part of it. So I needed to do something to connect. She always reminds us that we are strong women from a long line of strong women. She has to be the strongest of us, though. Frail, delicate, brave, and tougher than old shoe leather.
I appreciate him for supporting my going. I appreciate how much he supports me in so many ways for so many things. I appreciate his never giving up on his crazy wife. My half-baked ideas and goofy schemes make him shake his head.
The walking is going well. I have been getting some photographs along the way. There is so much to see and things change constantly. Leaves turning, flowers, the sky, the light on the water. Then, there are the trees themselves. So beautiful and so often overlooked. Seen as window dressing rather than a focal point. A frame around the view. But, I love the trees. See…….black lace.