Approaching a journey’s end …

So, I just got the call from the dentist brother-in-law, scheduling the last appointment with the oral surgeon for next Tuesday morning. After the fitting and placement of the locators for my bottom plate, we’ll be heading to my brother-in-law’s office to take impressions to make the plate match and accept the locators with the hardware permanently affixed in the bottom, and the top plate re-aligned and relined to meet the tissue changes in the last six months. The end of the journey is seven days away.

Ten and one-half months after beginning, so now the end approaches. I should be dancing on table tops. What I’m really doing is trying not to cry.

Why cry, you ask. Well, because it has been a long, emotionally draining nearly a year … and I’m exhausted by it all. The first half of the journey saw me out in public with plates in place TWO DAYS after having all my teeth removed. And I never stopped smiling. It was empowering. The last six months? not so much. I’ve worn/used the plates for probably 36 total hours since January. I’ve kind of been trapped in my house by not being able to wear them and that isn’t good. Eating has been an adventure.

The surgeon and dentist have been amazing at helping me by making short-term use adaptations to the plates, to permit me to go do public function things – appear in court for trials, stuff like that. But only for a few hours at a time. Heck, the grandson thinks I look weird with the plates in now, he’s so used to seeing me without them.

None of this is to say I’m not oh-so-forever-grateful for this process. But, like many good things, there has been a price to pay.

In the last few months, I’ve been laid off from my job, but unable to go out and get another because of the denture journey. VERY hard to apply for a job with the dentures in, and say ‘oh, by the way, I’ll be undergoing another series of appointments with the oral surgeon over the next 3 months and will need time off for that and recovery time, okay?’ when you’re interviewing. Better, really, to just wait. So money’s been a real problem.

Now, I see the future coming at me, and if it is going to punch me dead in the face, I hope it lets me take the dentures out first. I don’t want to have to go through this again for a while.

When I started on this journey, I thought it would be over by the end of March. The change to the path in January – getting the locators in the bottom plate – extended the terminal point. I knew back in September when it began that April was a critical time for me – when the job would likely melt into nothingness and I also anticipated an upward swing in the legal job market at that time. I was right about that – jobs DID open up that I was qualified for and could have gotten. That market has been gradually slowing down again.

Now? I’ve been working, actually, throughout the period from lay off to now, but doing contract work, not an ’employee’s’ job. Contract work can be exciting, and this has been, but it carries with it uncertainty – there is no guarantee about the day you’ll be paid, as there is when you’re employed and your pay check is due to be deposited on the last business day of the month, for example. Uncertainty continues … and I’m getting a bit old for this, you know?

So, all in all, good news that it is over, but badness in that the timing is stinky. One thing IS certain though: The journey will have been worth it, but I will be glad when it is over.

My coffee has brewed, there is work to be done, and yarn awaits me on the other side of that drafted complaint. It is Friday, the end of the week. And I will be here, in full grin, next Friday!

With Coffee, dogs and yarn!  That is all!

Assigning blame, and losing sight of today … over coffee!

Last summer, I wrote about sharing my personal epiphany with my sister; she embraced it – for a time. Her life became pretty overwhelming again, and that makes me sad – for her.

Lately, I’ve been seeing status posts and comments on Facebook that make me sad – for the people posting them. It is, therefore, time once again to post the epiphany and share it.

My epiphany came over time; or perhaps I just didn’t recognize it for what it was each time I met it. Maybe I was too busy wallowing in yesterday to see it and understand it.

Here it is, in all its simplicity:

NOW, this very moment, is THE ONLY moment we have.

It is ALL that matters, because it is all there is.

I first remember recognizing this startling discovery as an important bit of information on the day I grew up. I grew up by realizing that, as much as I was disappointed by my relationship with my mother, she wasn’t a bad mother: she was a HUMAN BEING who did the best she could with what she was dealt and her understanding at each and every moment of her life. I forgave myself for disappointing her. She didn’t need my forgiveness: she never asked for it, and it would have been the height of arrogance to forgive her for being human. I accepted myself for being human, too.

But that was not the moment of epiphany.

I also recognized this information on the day I realized my Dad wasn’t to blame for my ‘rotten’ childhood. The man had his problems, and I was affected by them. But he was just a person, human, flawed, with the capacity to love and the need to be loved. His Alzheimer’s stole the essence of him – his intellect. Whatever karma he was kicking around, he met it alone. That was humbling.

But that too was not the moment of epiphany.

I recognized this information during a period of being a failure as a parent in the eyes of my child. I don’t blame her for going through that period of viewing me as a failure, nor the fights and silences. I am kind of happy it happened in a way. It triggered growth and maturity for her. And it made me look with honest eyes at myself.

THAT was the moment of epiphany.

All those things make me who I am. I have learned every day whether I wanted to or not; I have become from all of the experiences of my past. I bring them with me every time I climb out of my bed in the morning. I take all the new with me to bed each night. Sometimes, I don’t sleep well as I process that day’s additions to my essential being. Other times, I sleep as though cradled in safety and warmth. It’s an iffy thing, this being human.

ALL I have is here and now. THIS moment, this day. All those things in my past are gone. I cannot change them. They can no longer change me. I did what I did. The consequence is right here, in this moment. No amount of talking about yesterday is going to make anything that happened go away. No dwelling on it is going to change a single thing I did. And, if I’m going to be really honest here, any attempt at explaining anything I did is only going to sound like I’m trying to justify or excuse myself. And there is NO ONE besides me that I have to justify or excuse myself to, really.

My parents, both loved and dead now, only contributed to who I am and what I remember about my childhood is colored, not by FACT or TRUTH, but by my own selfish perceptions and interpretations. Memory is always a little iffy as a resource for indignation and self-righteousness.

My siblings contributed to who I am and what I remember about my childhood. Frankly, there were a lot of us, so there are a lot of perceptions and interpretations of the exact same events. Fact? Truth? um, no.

My acquaintances? Friends? Ex-husbands? Children? Grandchildren? Co-workers? Associates? Um … they contribute to my experience, but are they responsible? pffft are they to ‘blame’? pffft, again, I say.

All observation is flawed as a method of recording events; as the observer cannot help but color their observation by interpreting through their own experience. Memory shares this flaw.

I cannot control the future. It is constantly moving, in transition, effected by the wings of a butterfly. I can prepare for it. It’s out of my hands though. Worry, blame, judgment, justification, rationalization, anxiety, stress — what good purpose do these serve?

What does this leave me?  Why, funny you should ask! It leaves me NOW, this moment in time … when I have a choice to be present in it and live it to its fullest. There is nothing else. Just now …

The sun is out right now; that is good. The dogs are sleeping; that is quiet. The bills are paid (for now); that is also good. People are dying – one now at a time, and this is also good, because they are LIVING THEIR MOMENTS, and we are all dying … one now at a time. That is the path we are all on. To fear it? to attempt to control it? to suffer anxiety about it? to dwell on the past and miss THIS moment? no.

With coffee, dogs and yarn! Life is good – in the now.

That is all!