Pat_B’s post titled “Where to find inspiration” gave me the incentive to write what you’ll read here. It also helped me make a decision that has been rolling around...no...make that turning cartwheels...in my mind since this conversation took place a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been mulling it over; holding it close to my heart as Smeagol did in Lord of the Rings...muttering “My Precious”...
The Rug Rats were in bed, the doggies snoozing on the couch, and my son and I sat together at the kitchen table, relaxing in the quiet aftermath of hectic homework and play and baths and little boy noise. Jo had already mentioned his intention of staying with me, whether he could save his love relationship or not. If the latter did work out, his lady would join the household. Now he had something else to add, and the way he said it makes me suspect that it has already been discussed with his brother and sister...and his lady.
Approximately two years ago, my three children, worried about my being alone out here, began to exert gentle pressure that I make other living arrangements. I told them flat out that I had no intentions of leaving the bush, and anyway, my dogs, being pits, are banned in most towns or cities...and my health was still fine. We finally agreed that Jo, who would eventually buy the inherited share of my house from his siblings, would move in with his family....but MY projected date was in 2022. The Rug Rats would be older, and it was my hope that living alone until then would be no hassle. Although not entirely comfortable with the decision, my offspring backed off some, even if it would come up again whenever I wasn’t feeling well, or if there was a renovation problem. So Jo’s moving in with me is not a new plan; it is only way ahead of its time.
When grandson Fred took the apartment downstairs, they all sighed with relief. Then my brother was so ill that he was here too, so there was always someone around. Within a few months I was alone again, with Bird’s passing over and Fred’s job taking him away for weeks at a time. Once more I was hearing murmurs that I shouldn’t be out here alone, I should be letting my kids take care of me. I’m still wondering if Fred’s little girlfriend realized how happy everyone was when she decided to stay in the apartment during his absences.
Jo’s separation happening shortly after has definitely taken care of worries about my solitude! Now, as I listened to what my son was suggesting, it seemed as if Part 2 of their plan was being broached.
It is no secret that I am having a devil of a time now to make ends meet; that my savings were wiped out by a bad business decisions, compounded by the expenses incurred with my brother’s illness. Worse, my energy and desire to rebuild are just not there. To make it work, it would mean commuting back and forth to the city again. The truth is, in fact, that I have never really enjoyed accounting, and now I’m finding it a burden to insure that the work even pays its own way. I’m treading water...barely.
“Write!” my son was saying now. “You have always done it, but you had to make a living. Now we’ll be here – keep only the clients you want....if you want. I’m sure you can make money at writing, and it’s what you love to do. And even if it doesn’t pay, you don’t have to worry anymore – I’m here for that.”
With my brain floundering in the shock caused by his words, I could only mumble something about independence and being a glorified babysitter. He laughed at me before reminding me that this is MY house, and that I was helping with the boys already – not having to worry about clients would just make it easier. He also insisted that it was more an exchange of favours, and that he was convinced I could make money by writing, if being independent was my only fear. He added that whatever I decided to do was my choice; either way was fine with him.
Well, Holy Puck! Maybe not the appropriate reaction when someone offers you your dream on a silver platter, but it was exactly what I was thinking.
And so I have been writing about my Rug Rats, and hoarding this little secret pearl, and then Pat_B’s post gave me that required little push to the edge. Although there is some unfinished accounting work to be done, and I probably will keep one or two minimum maintenance clients, I am accepting my son’s offer. If it doesn’t work out, I know my kids will at least feed me...
Do you think I’m SMILING? You’re darn tootin’ I am, and it’s a biggie – more than enough to share – so help yourselves, folks! It’s a SMILING celebration!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
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