well, we're in the final stretch for the date to auction the house. september 11th looming large on the calendar, more so in our minds. and good lord who's farking idea of a joke was THAT?
as you may imagine things are becoming a bit more "intense," shall we say. the breath quickens, a few more wide eyed looks from the mama to the papa. a well placed what the fuck? or two as reality gets more real. nervous giggles over a bottle of wine and a lot of what ifs. it's funny that after all these years together it may be like starting over again. a little of the ha! ha! funny, and a little of the whoa! funny.
have i started packing yet? purging? organizing? planning? yeah, not so much.
at this point i'd like to think i'm possessing a healthy mixture of optimism and denial. both of which have their places, of course. but combined, and they're like a magical elixir for the damned.
the thing is, i don't think this is over. not by a long shot. i have reason to believe that miracles can and do happen everyday. but i think we discussed that before.
i have to say that one of the things that pisses me off the most is after being here a decade i began to fully expect to get old and die in this house. let the kids deal with the crap and the stuff and all that! but i guess that joke just may be on me. the best laid plans of sillymortals and all that, right?
other than, you know the obvious suckiness that comes with losing a home, i think i'm doing pretty good. still. right now. today. this morning. i'll keep you posted.
i just keep thinking about the story of the medieval muslim king who ruled granada from his huge beloved castle, alhambra. now this being southern spain and muslim, it had always been separate from the rule of ferdinand and isabella. that is until they decided they wanted granada for themselves so the whole country would be unified in strength, but mostly in christianity.
well, the muslim king put up a valiant fight for a decade, but ultimately the spanish army was victorious. and as the king was leaving after surrendering his beloved alhambra, he stopped on a ridge overlooking the castle and let out this huge sigh over his loss. there's even a plaque where he sighed. an actual plaque marking his huge sigh!!! can you imagine? and even today you can visit the spot!!! the section of the ridge is called The Last Sigh of the Moor.
anyhow, so he's heaving this huge sigh and his mother, who lived with him and had also lost her home, goes up to him and smacks him across the face! then she screams at him "don't weep like a woman over what you couldn't defend like a man!"
dysfunctional family dynamics. not a new idea.
i will tell you what. whatever happens i'm not the muslim king and i'm not the mother. there will be no plaque to mark where i lost my shit over this house. there will be no blaming or recriminations. will there be tears? hell yeah! i cry at insurance commercials and parades. you can bet there will be tears. and i may curse the name of the people who still have crap "stored" in my basement, but that's just standard and certainly not plaque-worthy.
the only thing that will mark that i was here are the memories i keep with me. and while it seems a little sad, i don't think it is, really. in the grand scheme of things. to have a happy blessed loving home in your life is a gift. and even if the four walls change shape and color and location the happy blessed loving home is, in the end, not a physical place at all.
but yeah, i'll still cry.
anyhow, so there's your update and my reality. and it is in this spirit i bring you this week's moment(s) of zen. it's nearly 7 minutes long and most of you will hate it and it has absolutely nothing to do with anything in this post.
except that for 30 years it has caused me to bust up with happiness every time i hear it. and if we need anything more for something to be zen and to be shared then i don't know what that is.