Last summer's blue skies seemed like they'd go on forever. Lots of storms so lots of great cloud formations. There was time to heal, quiet moments to contemplate my purpose, a promise of new beginnings. First, though, it was decompression - after all, I'd worked non-stop for almost thirty years. I had just been maneuvered out of the company through a series of understandings, "mis-" and otherwise. If I had known the economy was imploding, would I have done anything differently? Truly, I think the die was cast but who knows? In any case, I had set aside the summer to rediscover what matters to me and I would be all set in September to start on the road to my next career.
Then Mum asked if she could come stay with us while she recuperated from her fall. Of course, I said. Ever since Grandma died alone in that nursing home, I had always sworn that there would be a place with me for my parents. Now the study became her bedroom and the downstairs lav had a booster seat on the toilet. No biggie...I'd have plenty of time to get into myself, figure out next steps, opt for a second chance at what I really love. Days taking care of Mom, trying to help her peel her own onion, escape from her because that's where I was a teenager again, those days flowed one into another until fall fell. She didn't want to go back to my father - not yet. Oh boy!