Home Alone Two

For the longest time when we were first married the only reason W. remembered my birthday in May was because it co-incided with the opening of fishing season in Ontario.  Then it was helpful for my kids to remember it since Mother’s Day could be the exact same day, or at least in the same week.  This year I turned 60, so I was just kind of hoping everybody would forget about it altogether.  Of course they didn’t, but I’m very thankful to everyone that there was so very little fuss made about the whole thing. 

My sister Ann came for a visit the 3rd to the 9th.  We had a great time together, as only sisters can.  I love her dearly.  That was one of the best presents ever.  Then W. left for his spring fishing trip on the 11th, but not before he got a deal done on a new car for me.  It’s only taken a year of messing about for the reality of it to finally happen.  I had begun referring to it as the phantom car because it just would not materialize.   So those were both great birthday/mother’s day gifts.  Nothing beats the personalized cards from each of the grandchildren though.  I’d ALMOST trade in my new car for any one of those.   And then I was kind of happily stunned by all the facebook wishes from my friends and relatives.  No one mentioned the big ’six – oh’.  Thank you, thank you.  I know I should be thrilled that I’ve lived so long and been so blessed in this life.  But SIXTY????  Blah.  And in that spirit I spent the 13th home alone just like it was any other ordinary day of any other ordinary week.  Quietly being sixty.

Now May has become a bitter-sweet month for me.  Hard to believe it’s been a year since mom died.  A year tomorrow.  A YEAR!!  The older I get the more often I wonder where the time goes and why it flys.  I used to think the ‘year of mourning’ idea was ridiculous.  Setting up a mourning timetable, falling into an abyss of grief and taking so flaming long to work your way out of it.  Now I know it’s a necesary time of healing and the process really does take that long.  Maybe longer.  And it’s taken me personally this length of time to realize that it’s okay to return to an active joyous life without guilt.  This is the life my mother left me.  I want to do deeds that honor her soul and attest to her continuing influence in my life. 

So last night I spent alone at the tv eating hot dogs and watching movies.  *(serious serious eye rolling)*  I guess the good deeds are a work in progress.  I’m sure I’ll think of some soon.  I’ve purchased plane tickets for three grandchildren and a return trip for my daughter so that all of us can have an amazing summer camp holiday.  That should be a brownie point or two for grandma. 

Last year at this time W. went to Kenora and didn’t come back for five months.  His brother is doing very well now I think, and he had a lot to do with that happy outcome.  So this little home alone stretch should be a breeze in comparrison.  If I get too “bored of myself” (a lovely grandchild expression that makes me laugh out loud) I can always hop in my little Nissan Altima and take a road trip somewhere.  Or just go around the block a couple of times.  Or not go anywhere at all.  I could sit at home and make lists of things I should get done so that I can feel bad later that I haven’t gotten any of them done yet.  Mom was a great list maker and doer of things.  I’ve got the first half of that talent down pat. 

But before I do anything productive, I have about seven more bargain bin movies to watch.  It’s a home alone tradition.  Some traditions are sacred and should not be messed with.