It's been a gathering up sort of day, a day of sweeping all the loose ends together, fumbling to tie them neatly into some sort of functional bow. I feel a bit like the pioneer women must have felt, trying to muster their families together before that huge trek across the prairie and over the mountains. Oh sure, I'm just traveling 1200 miles in a very nice car with two little dogs and one middle aged man (and all our respective "stuff"), but the journey looms large, and the loose ends today were many and scattered. Although we frequently travel back and forth between our northern and southern homes, we usually go via air, and typically spend less than a week away. It's been two years since we've made this road trip with dogs in tow. That last time, I remember looking forward to it with a childlike enthusiasm, anticipating a big adventure. This time, it seems somehow more difficult, both physically and emotionally, and the whole event smacks of drudgery more than excitement. I'm a terrible artist, but if I were to draw a self portrait (in stick figure style) you would see a tiny person with very long arms being stretched in two different directions. One part of me pulled inexorably toward my only child who lives so away in Florida, the other clasped tightly around my first home, my family, my friends, here in Michigan. Recently, it seems harder to leave all that behind. I worry more - about my mother, who seems to grow more frail before my eyes, my aunt and uncle, afflicted with physical and mental infirmities, even my old house, the roof covered with snow, foot long icicles hanging from the rafters. I feel loathe to desert these people and things who need me, I feel guilty about stealing this time for myself. But there is one loose end that dangles in the back of my mind, and this is the one that I must always force myself to acknowledge, and then whisk firmly away, much as I do the cobwebs that form in ceiling corners. Among the women in my family - my mother, my aunt, my grandmother- lies this penchant to become so entrenched in the safety of home that they never leave. A reluctance to travel on long trips, becomes a reluctance to go out to dinner, becomes a reluctance to leave the house at all. I'm starting to understand that. I'm starting to feel that. But, I'm fighting it. And this trip is a major battle. I'm sitting now in my study, surrounded by wrapped gifts for my son and my daughter in law, and for my father and his wife, suitcases with books, tote bags with food (doggy and human) - some of the loose ends I've been trying to tie together all day. It's long past the time I should have gone to bed. Yet, I'm reluctant to let this day come to an end. Because tomorrow means a huge journey, and there is reluctance in my heart... Tying up loose ends, putting all the pieces together - some of the things I'll be thinking about as I travel the interstate over the next three days. I'll keep you posted.
Finis
Should you be wondering whether I managed to complete my gargantuan list of "must do" tasks at the office, I'm happy to reassure you that, yes indeed, through an effort of superhuman willpower, I did complete every report, letter and other sundry assignment (including collecting for and purchasing a group gift for my boss) right on schedule today at 12:00 p.m. Yes!
And now, I can officially turn my attention to the business of holiday making. You see, I never seem to become fully cognizant of the fact that it's Christmas until about three days before the actual day. Oh, you mean today is December 20th? That means we're leaving here in two days, so anything I'm going to accomplish for Christmas festivities in Michigan has to be done - tomorrow?
Yes.
Well.
As I was blog surfing today, I read the words of a very wise woman who reassured me that it's okay if I'm not in a "happy, elfin, north pole place" at this time of the year. I'm not alone, she reminded me gently, in the kind of sad, Eyyore-ish place I tend to visit every December.
And then she gave me this advice:
"If you are to make this month bearable, or even good, you must try to be alone with yourself some — in a good way, not in a dour, isolated way. Doing that is the spiritual and psychological equivalent of standing up straight, with your weight evenly distributed on your feet. When you stand that way, no matter how hard the gales blow, you won’t fall." And of course, that's what is lacking, what is always lacking for me - enough time to be alone with myself in a good way. As I write those words, I think you all must get tired of hearing me whine about my persistent lack of time. Why doesn't she just fix her schedule, you're probably thinking. Why doesn't she just become better organized or change her life so she has more time?
That's a good question.
But I can't really answer it now - or even think about how to answer it - because tonight I'm visiting my aunt and uncle, tomorrow I will be hitting a bunch of stores helping get my mom prepared for being on her own for two weeks, picking up a few last minute gifts, wrapping things, doing laundry, checking in on my mother in law, and trying to figure out what/where/how to pack all the things I want to take with me.
And it may be that I actually have more time than I think, more time than most people have. But it also may be that I simply need more time - to be alone, to brace myself against the world. I crave simplicity and order, two commodities that seem awfully hard to come by in this 21st century world.
So I'll be looking for some of that "good time alone" during the next couple of weeks when I'm in Florida, some time to stand straight with my feet firmly planted on the ground. But I'm not sure if I can put myself in that "elfin, north pole kind of place" this month, even thought it sounds like a good place to be.
Maybe next year.
Meltdown
It's not the snow that's melting - it's me. You see, I had this grand plan for getting all my office work done before we pack up and hit the highway on Saturday. I've been working "ahead" in my job for the past couple of weeks, so that I could have all the work for next week finished and turned in before we leave.
Oh yes, I had it all figured out so perfectly. And I was right on schedule, too -even enough ahead of myself that I felt comfortable going in an hour later than usual, stopping to do some errands on the way in.
But it all went haywire. The nurses seemed to have worked overtime this week, and my boss (whose Executive Assistant I have recently become) decided to catch up on all her paperwork and correspondence. The result was a veritable cascade of new reports, letters, reviews, etc. -all for me to finish by Thursday.
I had a moment of real panic, about 1:30. In addition to everything else, I missed lunch, so my blood sugar chose that moment to plummet, sending my spirits with it.
After a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup, I rallied a bit, and came up with a plan. I took a few extra minutes to organize my thoughts and my paper flow, and settled in to work. A marketing rep from a home health care agency stopped by with a big box of truffles, and that perked me up even more. I' m not out of the woods yet, but I think I'll make it - barring any more unexpected assignments!
There was a point in all this madness today when I felt like throwing in the towel. Forget traveling, I was tempted to say, there's simply no way I can ever get it all done. There's still shopping to do, still people to visit, still Christmas-y type things I need to get done. Not to mention trying to figure out all the things I need to pack for three days in the car (with dogs). I need diversions big time - books on CD, movies to watch on my laptop, snacks (truffles?). I'll never make it!
Then I thought about my lovely, quiet house in Florida. Being able to talk walks around the lakes every day, go to the pool, lie in the sun, eat meals on the lanai. Oh, my.
(Deep breath.)
Time to buck up and get the job done.
I'll save the melting for the Florida sunshine.
Winter Wonderland
For once, the weather forecasters were right on the money...as we slept, peacefully unaware, the snow kept coming, silently, stealthily, and so we awoke to bushes laden with heaping helpings of white, to the wind whistling around the south side of the house, and to the faint rumblings of thunder - yes, thunder snow, the meteorologists are calling it. It sounds like a locomotive traveling along a far distant track.
Here's what I love best about snowstorms -they force me to be quiet. After all, no one in their right mind would go out this morning. (Notwithstanding those crazy folks just featured on the news who made their way to Target at 7:00 a.m. just to get a Wii - remember, I did say no one in their right mind.) And so I have to stay home - there's no reason to risk life and limb for groceries at the market, or toiletries at Walgreen's, for a rehearsal at church, or even books at the library.
But it's sad, isn't it, that it takes an act of God to make me be still? It's a measure of how much I need this quiet that last night and this morning are the most content, the most relaxed, dare I say the most happy, days I've experienced in the past three weeks.
Why can't I impose stillness on myself once in a while? Write a prescription for it, deliver an executive order straight from the head honcho in charge of my life (that would be me, believe it or not!)
Mother Nature in her infinite wisdom, has given me this snowy, blustery day. A day to hunker down, put on another pot of coffee, maybe whip up a batch of cinnamon waffles or a rich ham and cheese omelet. There's a tall bookstack on my bedside table, a batch of Christmas cards that still need addresses, and a pretty new notebook I've been thinking about writing in.
The TV news people call it a blizzard.
I call it a gift.
A Weath of Information at Your Fingertips
A number of years ago we bought our son his first car - a used Pontiac Grand Prix. It only had about 40,000 miles on it, but it was out of warranty, and we decided to purchase GM's extended warranty policy. Normally, we never buy extended warranties, but on a car, we thought it could prove beneficial. Had we known about Finance Genius, we would have been able to do some comparison shopping before shelling out an extra 560 bucks for the GM warranty. Finance Genius provides a one stop shopping place on the net for Extended Auto Warranty, as well as auto and home loans, and savings institutions.
It's a wealth of information at your fingertips.
And, by the way, the warranty came in handy when the car blew it's transmission - normally a $2000 fix, which cost us only the $250 deductible.