Can We Talk 2

Taking a Deep Breath

         I've been on vacation from blogging and writing in general. Not a guilt-free vacation. I have lots of excuses of preoccupations, illnesses, holidays, grieving, obligations, and so forth. I tried to get back on track, but failed. I took an online course in an effort to concentrate again. The course was great, but it didn't get me motivated in the direction I wanted.

         I've had some firsts during that long time off. I tried my first frog leg. I haven't been missing anything. I made my first guacamole. I'm sold on that-an Alton Brown recipe. Love making and eating that particular version. I had my first professional massage. I made the mistake of telling her I had headaches and neck pain. I was sore for a week from my shoulder joints to my ear lobes. The headaches did not go away, either.

         Although I don't have anything in particular of grave concern going on right now (I have in the past and got through it), I am obsessing perhaps with my own mortality. I've lost the second of two younger brothers, so the fragility of life has really parked itself in front of my face. I take care of my father who is in his 90's. He takes short steps and is a bit fragile, hard of hearing and forgetful. But his doctor says he is hale and hearty and all his major functions are A-OK. So I worry about who will take care of him if something happens to me. It is very conceivable that I will go first.

         I need to up my game clearing out my belongings. I will never have my own home again. Even if I did, I would probably take the stuff in Dad's house where I now reside. He'd either come with me, or I would end up outlasting him after all. So stored away dining chairs, kitchen utensils, and lawn furniture need to go bye-bye. I need to do the same with a lot of my parents' things, too. He's not going camping again or fish in the ocean. I've been trying to get my third brother and my nieces, who lived here briefly when Mom was alive, to take their junk out--the ski boots, books, sports trophies. Why wait until someone dies and have a tone of stuff to clear out?

         What I'm considering is that if I go before my father, my room should be completely emptied and all my belongings donated somewhere. My widowed niece could move in here. Her two sons would occupy my room. Her daughter would be in the smaller guest room where I am now typing (it doubles as my office). She could take the guest room downstairs where her father stayed after his divorce. She'd have more privacy there. The kids would be upstairs with Big Pop. He would be revived by their presence. They'd be closer to town and her work. It is a different county, so a different school system is involved. And it would be temporary. How much longer will a man in his 90's live after I pass away or go into a nursing home? She could rent out her farmhouse outside of town and have it for a return in a few years. The old man wouldn't be alone all day and would have an RN under his roof. My brother could come from 70 miles away, as he does now, to help her with maintenance and yard work.

         So I want to be more organized, a very popular word, and live "leaner", a big word in business, at least a few years back. I want to be prepared to have my physical presence swept aside and have the others in my life carry on efficiently and conveniently, taking care of each other. I guess you could accuse me of wanting to control things from beyond the grave. Ok. While I'm cleaning up and making space, I want to keep trying "firsts". I still want to experience the world and taste its joys I'm going to plant a big box of cilantro and re-read Shakespeare plays. I'm going to take a vacation if I can figure out a way to get away from home. I may never write the great American novel, but I can dabble at will.