It’s a Chicken Little kind of feeling that the “sky may be falling,” or an Eeyore lament of “Oh well.” It’s a feeling that things are going too well… an impending sense of doom, a fear of the inevitable, when the other shoe is going to drop?
Last fall, when my mother celebrated her 83rd birthday, I wrote her a letter telling her how I had learned so much from watching her go through the phases and challenges of life with such poise and grace. Mom has always faced change well. She has been a “fatalist” all her life. She fears nothing, not even dying, as she has said for as long as I can remember, “When your number’s up, its up.”
This most recent change is no different. She decided to move herself to an independent living facility. Mom determined, on her own, that she needed to be around more people, that she didn’t want the responsibility of being a home-owner anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to be a burden to her children should something happen to her. She found the place she wanted, and with a little help from me, made the arrangements and moved this past weekend. I helped her sort through her belongings, determining what to take, what to sell, what to give to her children and what to throw away.
I helped her pack, forward her mail, list her condo, change her power and cable service and secure a mover. And it was done. We moved her most prized possessions ourselves, and let the movers do the rest, and before we blinked, she was making new friends, enjoying the cuisine and taking walking trips to the bank and drugstore.
I’m so very proud of her and very grateful that she is happy and healthy, as I look forward to many more years with my best friend.
So what is this other shoe thing going on? Maybe I feel like it went too smoothly, because NOTHING ever goes smoothly in my life. I’m used to looking at everything that way. We’ve never made a purchase when we didn’t come home to find a broken section or a piece of the hardware missing. That’s just the way it always happens.
And I never win anything (except Scrabble against my husband). Haven’t had three numbers at Lotto in 12 years. Or, I don’t deserve the praise… I could have done better… that kind of thing.
I do know that I had wanted to move out of town; almost secured a job to take us there, but it fell through. Then I tried to slow it down by trying to find a part time job. Thought I had a fabulous opportunity, but that fell through as well. So, now mom is settled in her new place, locally, I’m stuck working at the same job, locally. Once again, I have to adjust.
Perhaps instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, I need to just switch to sneakers.