Maybe you can see that on the porch in the winter months there is a view of the bay across the street. JB and I are buying a house in Provincetown, a house that we will probably settle into one day and where my daughter and son-in-law and grandsons can come and make themselves at home.
The thought of owning our own house in a coastal town where single family homes are at a premium has been exhilerating for us. But it has not been an easy ride. We are emeshed in the land of high finance and capital gains and complicated loans. I know: what a petty reason to complain when many cannot afford one house, let alone two. (Actually we can't afford two either, but as long as my Mother resides in a good rest home down the road, my primary residence must stay put.)
I am trying to speak a financial language I know nothing about: reverse exchanges and cash out refi's and conventional and unconventional loans and on and on. The mortgage guy we've trusted for years dropped the ball on this one, and we've had to scurry, fearful that we could lose the only perfect house we can afford.
It should be okay. But not yet and not without angst. I could wring a neck. I won't say who, but if that fricking commitment letter doesn't arrive in the next half hour, I'll be screeching.
Meanwhile, I am sitting at my desk and something snaps in my knee. I mean snaps! Torn minincus. I am on crutches, walking without grace or agility. Walking as little as possible.
Meanwhile, a favorite niece is arriving from Seattle tonight at midnight for a few days because she's had a tough time and needs support. No vicodin pain meds for me. I need to be present.
Meanwhile, my daughter Jess and her family have found the house of a lifetime: a Victorian that is as beautiful and warm a house as I have ever seen. Every part of me is in full prayer that this will go well for them; that it will be easier than our surrey through the purchase and sale of a house.
Meanwhile, my Mother is doing well some days and hallucinating others. She is at risk of falling because she tries to walk when she cannot.
Meanwhile, I have decided to stop my work as a psychotherapist by the end of May. I have one more mini career in me (more on that some other time) but it's been hell telling my clients I will be leaving.
Okay. That's all. How am I doing?
Well, it's been crazy. So many good reasons to look ahead with so much gratitude. But jeez louise. My head spins. Not a quiet moment. Not able to work this week when I wish I could have. Not able to settle into the look of the future.
This is a post all about me. I am writing it for my own good. No sympathy needed :^)
Maybe I'm just affirming, and sharing, that life can be a bitch and a half even through the good times. Maybe it's helpful to know that, to accept that, to curse it, to BREATHE through the smoke.