CHOICES

Choices. We all have to make ‘em as we go along in life. Well, we do until we get either too sick, or to the age where others make them for us. I’m not in either of those places yet.

After the visit with my son this morning I was still extremely upset, mostly because I had to once again refuse to move downstairs. I’ve worked too hard for what I have to give it up easily. His questioning of how I would ever be able to keep up the house without his financial support reeked of blackmail; it sounded like move down or else...! Grrrr!

I vehemently reminded him that the biggest reason I have been doing without so much since the business fiasco is to keep the house as an inheritance for him and his siblings, but that didn’t mean I was willing to bury myself in a basement until it would happen. We both stepped back then – called a truce. As I have mentioned, we are much alike in character.

He offered me another option, but things were too hot for me to make a decision. We hugged as he left. It was a sincere hug. I felt sorry for him, stuck between his mom and his lady. I felt sorry for me, having a dream on a silver platter yanked away by someone who had offered it to me in the first place, someone I love intensely.

I spent the day raging inside. A necessary waste of time and energy. When I got it out of my system, I was able to consider his second suggestion. Yes, I could go to his lady’s house and stay with the rug rats while she worked. I used to do it before the separation for free, and now he was offering to pay me well enough. His cousin on his dad’s side, a lad I know and like, is interested in renting the apartment when my grandson relocates into a house, so it would take care of the revenue I expected to lose on that front. The room upstairs where the rug rats were sleeping could be let out too, as long as the tenant likes dogs. I would still be free enough to find one or two clients for extra income. All in all, it would make more sense financially, and emotionally, than travelling to the city each day. Most important, I would be spending time with my rug rats.

A long walk outside with the doggies in my snow-filled bush, a splendid sight under the full moon, put things into perspective. My pride was hurt, but it would heal. My family’s health was at stake. No contest really.

I contacted my son tonight and told him we had a deal for his second option. I also sent a text to his lady to tell her everything was okay; we’ll make this work. I’m sure my other kids breathed a sigh of relief when they received their updates too.

The storm is over, the family intact, and we’re SMILING!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec