I don’t think there’s been a time in my life when I’ve been so caught up in so many projects simultaneously and I no longer seem to have a measure of time. It was a Facebook Memory from my archives that made me realize that it was earlier this week that I’d moved to this lovely log home in the woods just a year ago. So much has happened since then.
My mother experienced a stroke the day after I’d officially begun my trial run of life in the country last November. With her passing three months later I took on the role of executrix which has spanned three states and three probate processes. Just going through probate for each property has been time-consuming. My home in Georgia remains for sale and just to keep things interesting, I acquired a small canal-front property at the mouth of the Saint John’s River between two major storms. Like my cabin in the woods, she fortunately remained unscathed by the weater.
There’s a lot of updating to be done there, but it will be renovated slowly room by room, with dock repairs and the restoration of a neglected Eagle’s nest platform above a boat slip, then followed by the home’s exterior renewal. It will be fun to record its progress and see its full potential bloom.
Last week I spent several days up in Georgia emptying and organizing a third garage and this week I made arrangements with a mover to finally bring down the contents of that home. It’s a big step for in doing so, I’m no longer going to be able to pretend that life stands still. That home, set up much like it was when Rich and I lived there together, is in some ways a Museum of a Million Moments.
As long as that house remains staged in the past, there’s no real way for me to move forward. When I go back there, rambling about alone, I find myself searching for my old life around each corner, even three years later. At some point you need to ask yourself if that’s working for you. I know that’s a matter of personal choice, and circumstance, for each widowed individual.
It’s a beautiful home and property, but it’s the home of someone that no longer exists; someone that has moved forward to a different kind of life. I know it will offer years of happiness to a new family as it’s a space filled with so many happy memories experienced in a relatively short time.
On the writing front, I’ve just finished a first good draft of a memoir I’ve been working on since the beginning of the year. That is quite an accomplishment and one that has kept me centered through so much turmoil. I even was able to enter several items in to the Dog Writers Association of America’s Annual Writing Competition and continue to serve on its board. This year I’m personally sponsoring two Special Award catergories in memory of my late sister, Manette, and my parents.
It’s been very warm here in Central Florida, but today a “cold front” has arrived to make things very enjoyable with its temperatures in the 70s. That is one of the best things about life here. I was hoping to journey north this fall, but there’s been so much going on here.
Later today, the renovation goes on. Sometimes I wonder if at this stage I should just be going to the beach or traveling and taking it easy. There will be time for that, too, hopefully, but for now restoration and expansion on the property front seems to be an important part of my Move Forward.
It’s good to keep busy during the holiday period, it helps with the “Firsts” I’ll experience without my mom compounding other losses. I know she would be pleased with how I’m carrying on with her penchant for land and real estate transactions and the handling of what I’ve been gifted. I’ve found a way forward that makes sense for me while honoring those who made a good life possible. I remember that every day and never take it for granted.
It strikes me that within the word restoration, is the word “rest” and in renewal “new”. I like that and will stop to enjoy this progress as I go.
