To say that this year’s health diagnosis, and subsequent realization that the number of days I had left here on this planet may not be as many as I’d planned shook me would be an understatement. Many times in the days since getting that phone call from the doctor, I’ve thought about the what if’s of an early demise knowing that the turmoil of the last, oh decade or so, of my life has left me a little more disorganized then I’d like to admit.
I’ve settled into my new home over the past six months quite nicely. The closets and cabinets are neat, and I take great pleasure in how peaceful it feels to be here. I can tell you where just about anything is- as long as it isn’t written down on a piece of paper. The one place I’ve manage to ignore since the move has been the office- and the contents of those few boxes left stacked behind the rocking chair. A jumble of my financial affairs, health records, and all the whatnot and fodder we gather with the daily mail.
So I bought myself this book to help get me started, and I’m spending the last few days of the year trying to get a handle on things. I bravely opened the boxes and started sorting, trying not to get too lost in old journal entries and the memories, good and bad.
This is just a scratch in the surface of the mess there is to untangle- yet it feels good to finally be looking at it at all. Good in that way of peeling a bandage off of a wound to let the air and the light finish the job of healing it.
Part of my new year’s resolve is to start looking at self care as less indulgent- bubble baths and special treats, and more forward thinking acts of responsibility. To lay the groundwork for more stability, to deal with all that has been ignored in this mountain of unresolved, unaddressed, unwieldily overwhelming paperwork at my feet. Taking ownership of my life in a way that gives me hope for a better future, and peace of mind knowing that if, god forbid, my last days were to come sooner than I’d like, that my children won’t be left wondering what to do with my mess and where to find the information they’d need to close up the virtual shop and physical spaces in my charge.
Maybe it sounds like a grim way to wind down the year, but really it feels like a celebration. Sorry For Your Loss? Yup, the loss of the weight of this chaos. Actually when I look at it like that, I’m not sorry at all.