Well my hens and chickens, the Universe had other ideas about how it wanted things to play out. So here we are taking up the saga 21 months later.
It's a little bit like that scene in The Force Awakens when Rae and Finn look over and see the Millenium Falcon. We thought that ship had sailed a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. But there it was, a bit dusty, somewhat tarnished, and creaky from lack of use, but ready to save the day once more.
It was a dramatic moment in the movie, probably my favorite. I don't know if the resurrection of this diary can compare, but it will have to do.
We join our heroine....
(Are you sure you can honestly give yourself such a moniker?)
I see there are some familiar things in the secret hold of the Falcon. Not a bit rusty either. 🙃
Yes, smarty punct, I CAN. Because getting through the last few years with all my marbles still in their pouch, HAS been a bit of a heroic endeavor.
Almost a year ago, my mother passed away. She was 95 and was still pretty spry and taking care of herself very well, right up till the last six weeks of her life. We were grateful for that. But losing your last parent was harder on us than we were prepared for.
I've always thought that it is so harsh that there are so many legal details attached to someone dying. If you are the principle people responsible, you do NOT have proper time to mourn. Everyone seems to want your paperwork NOW. My brother and I launched into this with the help of my sister in law. It never seemed to end.
Though, interestingly enough for this diary entry, the final bit of business was concluded yesterday, albeit with a difficult twist for me.
We sold her house. I handed over the keys to the new owners last night. A young family with two adorable children and I hope they have a happy life in that house.
But. That same morning, my brother and my beloved sister-in-law drove off to search for their new home in Idaho.
Just after they drove away, I was standing in the big driveway, frozen in place. I had no idea what to do with my feelings at that moment.
But from across the street, here came Albert, a long time school friend of my brother and myself. He ambled over, as is his way, and I said, "Oh Albert." and burst into tears. He held me while I sobbed, and he reminded me that they were going off to fulfill their dream. And then he told me that if I ever needed anything, to call him. And I know he meant it. This is why I love that I have been able to live in a small town for so many years. There's nothing quite like it. Everyone who knows me, understands that I am 'alone' now.
This is a word that I'm working on. Trying to redefine what that actually means. Because I certainly am not bereft of friends. This much is true. Just family. That much is true too. I have a lot of work to do.
But there are possible solutions in the works, the details of which even I don't know yet. So, we will leave that for the future.
For now, I'm happy that Steve decided to put Dear Diary in the digital shop and start to put her back together in new and exciting configurations. It could not have come at a better time for me. I'm glad to have reconnected with old virtual friends here and to explore once more the joys and challenges of documenting the vicissitudes of life.
For those of you who have chosen to come and read this, you should know that you can't leave comments at this time unless you sign up for a diary, (which is free) even if you don't intend to write a word. But you might consider it as a low key and welcoming alternative to the more exposed and public media we have been used to of late. I have 20 years worth of my history in this database. And I'm grateful to Steve for being such a faithful steward of it.
In the meantime....
