Obviously there must be bad parts to leaving. One will definitely be this place. For 13 years I have been here and for thirteen years I have helped create this place. I will miss what it meant to me; and what I meant to it.
It's not the case now. I am not needed anymore and I feel I have paid my dues. Two people are going to be very angry with me initially. One; my father. At least, I think he will be; and I'm almost 100% positive at one point I will receive the 'after all I've done for you' spiel.
I am grateful for all the opportunities that this place has given me; both workwise and otherwise. But, am I forever to remain here living my life by paying dues? Or, do I stop existing in this world and start living in it? He will also be gutted about his grandchildren leaving; but on the flip side, us leaving will give him more of a reason to get up off his butt and come visit us.
My sister will also be angry; but more of a vengeful, selfish type of angry. My leaving takes her 'power' (if you will), away. She won't be 'my boss' any longer and I will no longer have to abide by 'the rules'. She will be where I am at some point in time, and no doubt blame me for leaving her with no other option. But, there is a choice. There is always a choice.
I am excited about moving; but very fearful of telling my family. After all that is said and done; I've never really left them before. And, more and more, I am feeling I need to. I need to live my life.
Today, I will give my mother an idea as to our plans. She will be my strength and my ally against the forces that are my father and sister. She'll understand, although she'll be sad; she'll understand and she will fight for my choice as much as I would fight for my choice. My mother is a person whose opinion (on most things.. ;) ) I respect immeasurably; so to have her opinion on what we propose to do might just do something to alleviate this raw energy swirling around my gut.
Grant wants to build a house on some of his parents land. Not close to them, mind, but close enough to remain a support to us. But, I don't want a McMansion on some acreage. I want an old farm house, with sheds that have so many stories to tell. Haystacks that have replenished themselves over decades of hard work. Old crevices and nooks and crannies in a house that make it a home. I don't want new and perfect.
This, and many other topics have and will be covered in the coming months. But, until I get my mother's blessing; or, if not her blessing, her advice; this gnawing in my gut will continue.
But, hope springs eternal. And, when I get too wound up, I just tell myself that I can always 'do nothing'. Nothing has to change unless we want it to. But, more and more, doing nothing inspires almost as much fear in me as moving. I cannot live another 13 years like this. I will not live another 13 years of this.
And, as a sidenote; see Wall-E. Show your kids, teach your kids about the realness of this. Whilst I cannot imagine us being on such a ship in space; us not being able to live here anymore is a very real one. It brings tears to my eyes that there is a possibility that even our grandchildren will never see what we have taken for granted for so long.
1 comment:
It's terrifying to make the decision to go. But oh, the relief when the decision is made, Shel. The relief!
We did it. 2 years after Mum died, we up and moved to the Whitsundays. We needed to leave. We needed to wipe off the heartache and the grime of the previous years. We needed to step away from Dad, and from the constant *need* of Joel's family (as much as we loved them) and just learn to be. Just be a family. The three of us.
We didn't leave forever. It was different to what you're doing, of course (yours sounds more appealing). But it was terrifying. And exhilerating.
And right. Absolutely, completely right for us.
Good luck with your Mum today.
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