All THIS, started with a decision. And THIS has taken it’s toll on my physical and emotional being. I see the stress etched on my face. I can see the self comforting indulgences in the roundness of my face and body. I have additional lines of worry and frustration from the untold times of holding my tongue; and those moments of walking away but not necessarily letting go. This move, this process has been hard.
I don’t recall requesting more patience, but patience is something that I have needed in abundance.
The sorting was an agonizingly slow process and took so much time; sort decide, sort decide, repeat. But finally one day the sorting was complete. We decided what we were bringing to our new home, what we needed for the month and change transition, and what was going to be sold. We settled on a realtor. We lined up a moving company and the company that was going to hold the estate sale
Mom kept wondering why I was a bundle of nerves. I’ll tell you why. My nature is perfectionism. I abhor making mistakes. I would not want to chose a company that is careless or out to rip mom off. I also have a strong need for accountability with my siblings. Overall they say the job that I am doing is good – but, I dread the wagging finger of disapproval, pointing out my failures. Mom indicates that things are merely things and replaceable. True. Yet, she doesn’t recognize the pressure she and my siblings have unwittingly placed upon me…. the pressure I have placed upon myself to not make a mistake, ever. It takes it’s toll. What if the moving company breaks an item precious to moms heart? Or what if the estate company isn’t honest? Or the realtor, what if they are lazy and don’t do a good timely job selling the house? What if I am distracted and mom gets sick? What if, what if, what if. These and other questions repeatedly peppered my brain. Usually at the terrible hour of O’ Dark Thirty, that hour when I should be sleeping, soundly.
If it was up to me, I would have had us moved quickly. Despite how long it has taken, we are near the end. Perhaps, no holding your breath, a few more weeks of transitional limbo. Then mom and I will be embarking on a new adventure and adjusting to two additional people, a dog, a cat, new healthcare providers, yaw, basically everything will need an adjusting. But the biggest adjustment is going to be to each other and the new roles we will have. Our roles may be different because, this time it’s my house. You know – my house my rules?