I saw my therapist today, for the first time in about two years, we figured. She was the one who first helped begin to lift me out of the fog in those early weeks and months after Mike’s death. She knows my story, knows me. I had been thinking of her a lot this year, with all the issues and decisions I am facing, and low and behold, I literally ran into her on the sidewalk in our little town last week.

 

I figured, well, that’s a sign. She had moved offices, and I couldn’t find her after searching online. But she appeared anyway. So I made an appointment.

 

She was interested in hearing all the developments I have been experiencing this year, and was able to provide me with some good avenues for me to do some solid soul searching. I don’t think she really told me anything I didn’t already know, but to hear it from an experienced counselor told me I was on the right path. That kind of support is important, and I am glad for it.

 

I will continue to be limbo girl for a while longer, given the delays with the house foreclosure. But instead of allowing frustration to take over, I have decided to appreciate my time here. I will be both saving my pennies from my job and going out to spend them in company of good friends. I will be loving on my dogs and my musician until time no longer affords me that. Or until I suddenly feel that urge to be gone. That could happen. Because if too much time goes by, well, the grandkids aren’t getting any younger, and neither am I. Most all my family is back east, and so I am called back, eventually.

 

I do have family to consider in all of this. But I also have to consider myself, and what I want. I might have said before – my musician boyfriend does not want to leave Hawaii. But he has been supportive of me as many of my friends are, and now my therapist as well, to consider first what I really want. Where I truly want to go, where I want to be, what I want to do.

 

It comes from the gut. You imagine one thing and see how it feels in comparison to another. You know, that clench, or not. And all the time trying not to think about the scariness of it altogether. Mike isn’t here.

 

It has been a slow slide for me into thinking of myself, since much I have been doing this past year is for others. So these are not easy considerations. They truly are decisions I must make for myself first, because I will be no good to anyone else if I am unhappy where I am, or with what I end up doing.

 

I want to be smart about it. To think seriously about affordability, finances, taxes, career opportunities. To develop a sense of security for my own future along with a sense of fulfillment and yes, even happiness. I am living in my last year before I turn 50. Most of my friends are a decade or more wiser than I. They are all thinking about things like retirement and social security. Long term care insurance. Taxes and pensions. I most certainly do not want to wait until it is too late to make good decisions about all of these things.

 

Two of the biggest decisions to move in my life have been made by following a man. First, my boyfriend from DC to California. Then Mike to Hawaii. I really want this next move to be from my own heart, and no one else’s. From my gut. I will not be selfish about it, but, well, maybe a little. Yes, I can always move again, and that could happen. But meanwhile time slips by, and starting over again in a new place takes more of that.

 

I have some thinking to do.