Making Plans
Big day yesterday. We took out the trash. Literally. A lot of it. Bulky trash day, which meant all the stuff that had littered the yard and around the house and behind the workroom for about the last five years is now gone. Or will be when they come pick it up. Right now, it’s sitting on the street waiting its turn. Good riddance. I also trimmed the yard yesterday and did some touch-up painting around the front doors where old Christmas decorations had left their mark. The marks are gone.
It’s time for a fresh start at the homestead and in my life. I’m still a little stunned at how far I let things slide over the last five years of memory care and mourning after my wife’s passing. But I did, and now I’ve stopped. I think the hole is deep enough and it’s time for me to climb out. That’s what all the cleanup is about. And while I’m doing the physical stuff, I’m going to take stock of my mental status and see if there’s anything there that needs rearranging, ditching or touching up. No telling what I’ll find.
This entire episode has been rather cathartic. But I think it’s something, as humans, that we do all the time. Lose a first love. Mourn the loss. Mope around. Clean up. Get on with it. Fail to get a job you want. Mourn the failure. Mope around. Clean up. Get on with it. Fail to get a promotion you want. Mourn the loss. Mope around. Clean up. Get on with it. They say the best revenge is living well, and although I have no idea who they are or if I’m really taking revenge, it still seems a good plan. And now that my house is clean and my brain’s on the way, with whatever years I have left, I plan on living well. And maybe I’m just proving a point to the universe. I’m down but not out.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale