taking a moment to grieve

 Today is the 4th day of the 35th week, the 28th day of the 8th month, the 241st day of 2024, and:

• Crackers Over the Keyboard Day - yeah, good luck with that!  Remember, you have to clean them out afterwards....
• Dream Day Quest and Jubilee - hard to believe it's been 61 years since Martin Luther King gave his famous "I Have A Dream" speech on this day 
• International Read Comics in Public Day
• National Bow Tie Day
• National Cherry Turnovers Day
• National Power Rangers Day
• National Sport Sampling Day
• National Thoughtful Day
• National Weed Out Hate Day
• Race Your Mouse Around the Icons Day - a copyrighted holiday developed by Wellcat.com.  I always thought it was a sly dig at those who have very cluttered desktops
• Radio Commercial Day - and we have been listening to them for 102 years  
• Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day
• Red Wine Day
• Willing-To-Lend-A-Hand Wednesday 

Quote of the day:
~ Kate Johnson, “Making the First Move”

"There is far more love available to us in any given moment than we might be aware [of]. And there is much, much more love in our hearts than we as adults have been conditioned to believe is appropriate to express."

Last night that mistress of plucked heartstrings, Jenny Jinya posted a few of her most touching pieces on her Facebook page in honor of today.  Of course I read them and they never fail to bring tears.  I was pretty sad when Kula was gone, and it took me nine months to get another cat.  I was completely devastated when I lost my Panda.  Even though I hadn't had her for as long as Kula, she had been my sole companionship during the COVID shutdown and I still miss her.

But then the tears turned inward and I found myself sobbing uncontrollably at my keyboard with tears streaming down.  Startled I got up and walked around, and tried to get ahold of myself, but it seemed the familiar sights and feels of my apartment were only making me cry harder.   

At last I got it under control, splashed  cold water [well not quite cold because they've screwed up the hot water plumbing again] on my face, and asked myself why I was so upset.

The answer finally came to me.  This apartment was the first place I lived where I picked it out alone and then lived alone.   It was totally mine.  

When I left my childhood rowhouse at 21, I moved in with Bob, and we lived in his apartment off ST Paul ST.  When I left Bob, I moved to Alaska with my son, and lived in Anchorage with my father and my step-family.  When I left Alaska and married Chuck,  Tommy and I moved into his apartment, and then later the house in Woodlawn for 10 years where my daughter was born and raised.  When I left Chuck, Tommy and I moved in with Frank to the apartment in Randallstown [Chuck insisted Jennifer stay with him].  After Frank died, I lived there alone for a couple years, then after 22 years, moved to The Enclave with my mother [management at her apartment where she had lived for 35 years refused to renew her lease] in 2007.  When my mother had to be put in a home, I lived there alone for the remainder of the two year lease [well alone with Kula after my daughter rehomed him] and that is when I bought my living room set.  In August 2009, I downsized and moved into this apartment.  It took a couple of years for it to happen, but this place became my home.

As the years wore on, many maintenance men, inspectors, third party vendors, and occasional neighbor made the comment that my place didn't look or feel like an apartment, and that was always my answer - apartment or not, it is my home.  I know the quirks - where the burner is on the stove that never has worked, where the carpet was pulled up because of the flood, where the fireman cut the carpeting last year, that the window in the dining room [which I use as my computer room] sticks and is almost impossible to open - things like that.  I'm comfortable and didn't have an issue with staying in during COVID as long as the computer was up and running, I had heat and A/C, and the water was working.

And now I am leaving it.  

I don't feel like I actually chose my place in The Evergreens.  Don't misunderstand me - I like the new apartment, and look forward to living in it  [my three caveats notwithstanding:  losing the view from the balcony, having to give up my Fios Gateway for Xfinity, and parking outside while waiting in third place to get into the garage].  I have been impressed with the staff and security and the cleanliness of the grounds.  Left to my own devices?  I probably would've waited another year.  I probably wouldn't have gotten a two bedroom apartment and agreed to increase my living expenses by so much.  However, I agree with my kids that staying where I am wouldn't have been good for me or the family, and I am grateful for their intercession because the situation at the Enclave is deteriorating quickly and the environment in the building is becoming unhealthy no matter how much I like my apartment.

But I am taking a moment to acknowledge part of the stress of moving that I am feeling is grief, grief that I am leaving the only home I ever created for just for myself, and  to allow myself to sorrow.  

And then, after I take the last picture from the balcony, then close the door for the last time, and turn in my keys, I'll head off to the next waypoint in my journey without glancing back.