mixed bag

The new job is getting in the way of my blogging. Where the days used to be long and languishing, they now fly by in a blur of students and commuting and slapdash dinners. What will I do with the day has turned into where did that day go? And here I am again in the middle of the conundrum of finding balance in my life.

We were zooming with some friends the other night and I was lamenting how long we have now lived in Virginia (nine months) without yet feeling settled. I wondered out loud how much longer it would take to finally feel the comfort of being at home where we are and, my friend, a clinical social worker as well, said "nine more months". Just like that. Definitive. It was oddly incredibly reassuring. Of course he has no idea but just the confidence with which he noted that I will, eventually, feel okay gave me a sense of hope that was anchoring in my floating sense of homelessness.

A mixed bag this moving across country having chosen our family over our friends. A mixed bag this having taken a job to have a sense of community over free time and well-prepared dinners. A mixed bag this hurtling through life at a remarkable speed watching the moments of joy whiz by. But as my father used to say..."it beats the alternative".

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Today is my last day of being 66. The other way of saying that is tomorrow is my birthday. Birthdays are fraught for many people but I like having my birthday. I have had many remarkable birthday celebrations and most of them have made me feel special and loved. Last year my birthday occurred during the height of Covid fear, yet my friends came over and we had a socially distant gathering in the backyard of our rental house in California. I made a special dinner and we all stayed in our chairs the whole evening six feet apart. I felt special and loved. The year before that we were in Paris and my kids surprised me by flying halfway around the world to celebrate with me. Even Tala was there in spirit and gestation, and I still think of that day at the Eiffel Tower when Hilary and Nate popped out from behind a van to surprise me as one of the top five days of my life. I felt very special and so loved.

Those who know me well know that I had a mixed bag of a childhood and then a mixed bag of a young adulthood. In the end though, I have always landed solidly on my feet. I am thinking that if I am really lucky (and I certainly have been so far!), I still have another third of my life left. I look forward and think that in some ways it might be the best third. Not the most physically nimble third but certainly the third I will appreciate the most. I get to carry that mixed bag full of experiences with me until the very end. Sometimes I open it and mill around in it looking to increase my wisdom. I am thinking that Jay might be right. Nine more months here and I will be in a very different place. I will be 67 and a half then enjoying everything that last third of life has to offer.