So, I have so much to tell you all. I don’t know where to start. I’ve been thinking about what to tell you first. The who’s. The what’s. The how’s. The why’s!
I’ve decided to just begin. And where I end up – is where I end up.
Recently I watched a movie with Ben Stiller in it. His character in the movie is a recently released patient of psychiatric institution. He had a nervous breakdown and he was recuperating at his brother’s house in Cali. He resides in NYC, but is hanging out in Cali watching his brother’s house while the brother and his family are in Iraq or Beirut or somewhere… I never did get why the brother was spending several weeks in this place. (I’m going to re-watch the movie – since, as I write this I can’t even remember what the name of the movie was…)
In any case – the important thing I took from this movie (since I didn’t particularly enjoy it) was a line the crazy Ben Stiller character said to his close friend. It went something like this: “When did you start accepting the life you didn’t plan for? “
Ok. WOW. Right? I mean – think about it. How many of us are actually living the life we planned for? And, when was SOMEBODY going to tell us – that the imaginary life we create in our heads – was just that?
I know a few women who are very successful (by some people’s definition) where they have climbed the corporate ladder and have made it up to high rungs. Making goot (yes, goot, which is more than good) money. Buying the houses the cars – all without a man. Which, of course is no big deal – if that’s what the plan was, but I know for sure – they didn’t plan that. And, needless to say – a few of those women’s personal lives have been compromised due to the type of success they have acquired.
In June, my husband and I moved our family from the house we owned and lived in for 10 years because it made the best financial sense. We lamented over the decision for a while and then agreed – that it was more important to provide access to good education for our children, a safe sense of community, a nice place to lay their heads and to keep me close to a mall. I’m just sayin.
So, after serious thought and logical evaluation – we sold our home in the lower NE Philly and moved into a rented town home in South Jersey. The move was serious business. For one, Philly and Jersey are two different perspectives.
At first my husband and I felt like fish out of water. Well, let me speak for myself – it was strange traveling north to go to work. I mean – not taking the Blvd or the Drive into Center City was almost hard to fathom. But, guess what after a few weeks of 42, and the Ben bridge – it kinda was not so bad. As a matter of fact, I’m less late to work than I was when I was coming from the NE.
My son is now in a school system that is rated one of the top in country – and it’s free. My daughter is in a daycare that has a curriculum that includes Spanish and Music and Dance and Cognitive thinking and Spatial Learning. The exposure to these opportunities were possible in Philly, but the affordability was the strain my husband and I couldn’t tolerate. We went from paying Chestnut hill tuition, to Mt Airy tuition to local parish tuition to premature grey hair and then decided that the negotiation of what we could afford vs. my son’s education wasn’t fair to any of us.
The development we live in is chock full of kids. I mean ladies – kids are all over the place and somehow the place is still pretty. The other parents are friendly (and if I were the type – I could probably befriend a few of the moms). I trust the environment. Enough so that my son can run around the development with his buddies until the sun sets and I don’t have to worry about a car hitting him, or what transient is peering nearby. Don’t get me wrong, my overbearing tendencies have not altogether vanished- let’s be clear. I’m still that mom who needs to know the names, the addresses and the goings on with the boys my son is running around with. Chile. Please.
Our house is new. Built in 2005-ish and now my laundry room is on the same floor as the bedrooms. Now, for some of you that means nothing. You may have already had this small luxury – but let me be happy with my new found perk. Thank you…
Having the washer and dryer a few steps form my bedroom (eh hem, master suite) is real sweet. It makes dong laundry a smidge less irritating. To be honest, my husband did the laundry in our Philly house. He’d take Sunday (all day) drag all the laundry down to his man cave, watch the tube and wash and fold all day long. These days, mommie does a load every day or so. I don’t have it down pat – but I’m ok with the new acquired chore. There are 3 bathrooms. Compared to the one in Philly. I have two men in my life who sometimes “miss” and there was a lot of yelling about cleaning up after themselves. Now they can miss in a bathroom other than the one I use!
I will tell you though. Since we are being real: the feeling of owning vs. renting was hard to shake. I know there are millions of grown folk who have landlords. And are perfectly fine with that. It took me a minute for it to settle in my spirit… but with banks falling a part, NATIONS falling a part. – if I have to pay rent – and maintain my credit score – well then you can see my point. And guess what: a few weeks ago on Oprah – a tidbit of irrelative info came forth on her show on the guy who owns Face Book…he RENTS! WTF? If there is anyone in this country who can buy as many houses as he wants, its this dude – and he decided to reveal that he was renting. (Now, don’t paint me naive- I’m sure there is a piece of property or two somewhere in this word that little boy owns – but imagine the statement he knew he was making when he allowed Oprah to tell the world he was residing in a rental…)
Ok. SO – that was the first unplanned personal obstacle I conquered this year.
Then, there was July – when I turned 40. Lord have Mercy. What??? 40!? Are you efffen kidding me? Those ladies who smile and sing 40 and fabulous could kiss my you know what. There was nothing fabulous about turning 40.
At that point all my plans and dreams of celebrating my 40th on a yacht in the Greek Isles had dissipated into a poof of ridiculous childlike fantasy. I had to shelf that one quick, fast and in a hurry. Because, I had just moved. Spent up a lot of money moving and it just wasn’t feasible. And, down the tubes went the image of me slim, basking in the Grecian sun, luxuriating with my family on holiday. (The “slim” part was pure delusion in any scenario)
So, I did a wine cruise on the Hudson with three important of the most important people in my life: My husband, my older and much wiser cousin, and her New York Ricano (how do you spell that?) boyfriend. HA! A blast! It was a great 40th and I am blessed to have had spent it with people who I know in my soul to love me. Without judgment or condition. Eff Greece.
Then in August my mother lost her eldest brother.
My grandmother had six children and my uncle was the first of them to go. It was devastating. And, for respect of my Aunt and my cousins – I won’t go into detail – but I will share this – the loss of my uncle was monumental. He represented a father who did anything he could for his children. He represented the husband that loved his wife’s dirty draws (sorry, a cultural analogy). He kept my aunt on pedestal for the 40 years they were married. We all appreciated that and some of us longed for it… My uncle was a champion. And I miss him with every letter I type about him.
Then in September my mother lost one of her sisters.
My aunt had been in compromised health for about two years. Her daughter was challenged every one of those days with what was best for her mother… What insurance would cover, what if doctors weren’t listening, which doctors cared less, how the nurses treated my aunt in the wee hours of the night, how the nursing homes could possibly employ such buffoons, and not to mention maintaining her job, raising her two sons and keeping her sense of sanity. My aunt was a gem. She was a trip. She loved to shop. Especially at night…she loved her some QVC and Home Shopping Network.
I honestly don’t think any of us had recovered from my uncle’s passing when the family met for my aunts funeral… and then to be back in the very church we held my grandmother’s funeral in 29 years ago (some of us hadn’t been in that church since then) was all too much. Something none of us hadn’t planned.
For me, it was like going to multiple funerals. My grandparents raised me until I was eleven. Then my grandmother passed. The life I thought I was going to live (then at that young age ) was gone. It would no longer be. So, back in that church, mourning the loss of a beloved aunt became a continuation of the mourning of my grandmother. And that life I thought I would have…
Its’ October now. Time moves on.
I wonder to myself about my life and the life I had planned. The many scenarios that have only come and gone in my mind…what could have been? Who would I have been? Who have I been and now become?
And, I can only say that the lesson to be learned is to accept the life you don’t plan for. Accept it. Do the best you can with the life you have. Because you don’t know what the Universe has planned for you…
An order has been placed.
Tags: accept your life, death, funerals, go with the flow, life plan, what now?
