OK - does time really compress the older I get? I don't know, but sometimes it really feels like it does. But can I just say that I'm kind of glad that June is over.
The stress of the never-ending real estate closing took more out of me than I realized - and I didn't handle it well at all, turning to food (one of my old coping strategies) instead of figuring out what was really up with me.
Turns out I like to be in control. :-D Those of you who know me in person can stop snickering now, thank you very much. But really - who doesn't like to be in control? Who doesn't like to have some sort of operating plan that keeps thing in some semblance of order? I mean, how else can you function?
I'm a very creative person - and you probably know that most people create out of chaos. That's how it works - and that's why my office at home pretty much always looks like a bomb went off. My sunroom, where most of my fiber art happens is much the same way - all kinds of fiber all over. But I still need to have some daily order in my life to allow me to abandon myself to the creative process, and June effed that up for me royally.
So - here I sit - and I'm so thankful it's July :-D I'm heavier than I was at the beginning of June, so that's my first priority, and my exercise schedule was totally off for most of the month. Too many nights of not getting to bed in time to get up to work out properly - including last night, actually, although Thursdays are my normal "day off" from working out, so I'm not having guilt about blogging instead of sweating this morning :-)
My second priority seems to be to divest myself of some more "stuff." I have some bags for the Second Chance Shop in the car, and this long weekend is going to have some time built in to it for sorting books. This is always a hard one for me. I'm of the opinion that you can never have too many books. Except I'm running out of shelf space - and I have a LOT of shelf space. So, it's time to take a good, hard look at what I have and make some decisions on what can stay and what needs to enrich someone else's home :-)
So - back to the business at hand this morning. I like to be in control. And sometimes I have a hard time letting go of the past. I wanted to be done with the condo I sold this week. It's been vacant for more than a year, and was on the market for just short of a year. That means I've been paying the assessment and the utilities for it as well as the mortgage and utilities for my own home for more than a year. I'm quite relieved to be done with that. But this was my mom's first "home" that was hers. We lived in a house for a short while when I was a child, but for pretty much as long as I can remember, we lived in apartments.
My mom bought this little condo and then set about making it perfect. She was like that - always of the opinion that you should fix something up to live in it, not to sell it. So, it became a very nice little place.
There are many, many happy memories there - and they flashed through my mind when I was sitting at that closing table. Like the Christmas that Linda the Chicken Lady came out. My mom made her a stocking and there were presents for all, and much laughter and wearing of bows and eating of Christmas food. Like the award my mom got from the village for the garden she created just outside her front door. Like her dog, Gigi, flinging herself at the mail coming through the mail slot in the front door (it was hilarious - I can't even describe it properly - but suffice it to say that there would be a mad scramble to grab Geege when the mailman got there every day :-D). Like the time my mom was ironing in the living room, and decided to put her sunglasses on. I have a picture of that one - ironing in her sunglasses. Like the fruit trees she planted out back by the parking lot that now give peaches every year.
This condo was the last thing that was really hers. She's been gone for a little over five years now. So maybe this was what they call closure. But I'm here to tell you that it doesn't matter how old you are, you never "get over" losing your mom. You just don't. You learn to live with it. You make a place in your heart for it so that you can go on. And go on I do. Every day. I'll be smaller by the beginning of August (hell, I'll be smaller by next week). My treadmill will get plenty of use this month. I'll get enough sleep. I'll have a little more control of my daily schedule again. And life will go on. That's how it works.
If you still have your mom, call her up and tell her you love her. And if your mom is gone, check that place in your heart. I imagine you'll find her there . . .