Walliebloggin': Maturity, Loss, and the Countdown Begins

I apparently did not get the sleep gene from my dad. He had the genetic skill set that allowed him to begin snoring almost as soon as his head neared his pillow and was able to fall asleep in a chair with a good record of not falling out of it. Me on the other hand will normally chew over the day’s events when I lay down, like a cow with their cud, before fading in to a slumber. I don’t usually mind it because I get to put a few ideas to bed (pun intended) and on occasion will come up with a good idea I can put aside for later (or spend the rest of the night thinking about).

But with maturity comes age, or is it with age comes maturity? Either way, within the last few years, it appears as though it also comes with the dreaded night pee. Yep, getting up in the middle of the night to take a little pressure off the bladder. I actually Googled the issue and found more reasons for it than you could shake a stick (or anything else) at. But that’s not where this is headed.

Last night, while trying to jump back on the sleep wagon after a detour to the loo, out of nowhere my thoughts landed on the fact that after Miki passed, it seems as though most of my empathy was directed inward rather than out toward all those she touched throughout the course of her lifetime. As I laid awake I tried to imagine my close friends, Miki’s family, and neighbors as they dealt with her absence and the loss they felt. Then expanding that ripple outward to other friends, co-workers, students and their families she became involved with. From an acquaintance to a childhood friend to the student’s families where she was allowed into their home to intervene and try to help with a behavior issue, I knew they were grieving along side me, but last nights thoughts brought out a deeper layer of empathy that had not occurred to me. I felt as though I could feel a little more of what they could have been going through being in their shoes. May I say now, that I am sorry for your loss and that it took me so long to get here.

So if a little loss of sleep can bring about good things, so can coming to the end of a house sit. Toward the end of each stay, wherever it has been, there is a bit of inner pull back towards home. Like a gravitational force that leads us back to our stuff, our bed, our friends, our bills. It has begun. During the next few days, we will start to transition from honorary resident to visitor again. There is cleaning to do, packing to coordinate, and travel plans to revisit. This time also allows for a retrospective moment or twenty. We still have some beach time ahead, I have some golf, and more, but one thing has become evident. We have been lucky to meet and in some cases share a meal with some of Betty’s friends. They all comment on what an asset she is to the community and a friend she is to them. That has been fun to witness and brings out the sibling pride. Way to go Betts!

We also share a connection with the animals we have been caring for. After we leave, we continue to picture them and their daily routine. We don’t necessarily miss the hairballs and other surprises, but they stay with us and can see them laying in the sunshine, under a bush, or listening to them “talking” up a storm…looking for a good scratchin’.

We’ve been good tourists, leaving a good portion of our budget behind. We’ve been good residents, putting out the trash each week, reading the local paper, and keeping up on current local events. Now we just need to be good travelers and enjoy the journey home.

One more thing. Beth and I were given the opportunity to attend the opera La Bohème recently. Having never been to one, it was very educational. I learned that I am slow with subtitles. I easily got distracted by the conductor, members of the audience, the décor of the auditorium and its acoustics, etc… But I did make it through and actually got a second wind to get into the last act, or was it the beginning of the end? I did take away an appreciation for those that love the opera. The man behind me took the golf clap to a raucous new level at each opportunity to serenade those on stage for their performance after each act and at the conclusion put an interesting emphasis on the syllables of the word “bravo.” It was a good experience, thank you Mimi. It makes our differences all the more valuable and us unique. Note to self…yelling “bravo” is for applauding the males performance and “brava” for the females…maybe that’s where I went wrong.