Life Goes On (Part 2)

The straw that finally broke the camel's back was, of all things, slow drains in the kitchen and bathroom sinks. After helping Barb deal with the loss of her mom a month ago, the bills are finally coming in for the two memorial services in California and Massachussets (including the burial and travel expenses). I am left juggling those unexpected costs with the outlays I already made for four new tires that needed to be replaced on the Toyota and scheduled maintenance for the Honda. LIkewise, money had already been spent  for trimming the front tree before the onset of winter storms, as well as that  leak on the roof that needed to be repaired after the winter storm that came a few weeks ago. Even with all those outlays, I am still trying to squirrel away a few dollars in savings for that inevitable rainy day when my contract expires and I will need to look for work (again) during a "jobless economic recovery".

So, in my mind, the kitchen and bathroom drains backing up the night before Barb is scheduled to leave for Boston with her  mom's cremated remains could not have happened at a worse time. It finally came to that point where I did not have the wherewithall, the patience, or the calm to "accept life on life's terms" as my world seemingly crumbled at my feet--and I was left alone, apart, and very afraid. In fact, I felt on the verge of emotional and economic panic spending a very sleepless night with Doom (the fear of losing what I have) and Gloom (the fear of not getting what I want) as they chattered incessantly about the 30% pay cut, the hour long commute in the morning and evening, and no paid time off to have a plumber look at the problem until the weekend.

Somehow, at day break, I gather my wits and start looking for plumbers who work on Saturdays, and I make plans to stay with my mom in the meantime should the plumbing problem get worse. Barb returns on Sunday, so we'll need to take a stab at  how we are going to  pay off the $3,500 in funeral expenses, the $1,200 in home repairs, and the $500 in auto repairs with paychecks that are 30% less  than what we made last year.

Sometimes, the best that I can do at moments like these is just  remind myself that the glass is not half-full or half-empty, it's just eight ounces out of 16...it is what it is.

Life Goes On

Barb's mom passed away last weekend. As a contractor, I couldn't take family leave (or even personal time off) to help Barb with hospice care or the myriad of details involved with the funeral. You see,  I wake up by 7:30 am durng the work week to get dressed, eat breakfast, and head out the door for a 45 minute commute to work. I'm paid by the hour to just focus on my work from 9:30 am to 5:30 pm -- seldom taking more than a 15 minute break to use the bathroom, grab a snack, or eat lunch. At the end of my workday, I pack up my laptop and lunch bag for the 45 minute commute home (leaving no trace that I had been there) .

At the same time, I do not bring work home with me. I no longer need to try to unwind from the pressures of 60 hour work weeks and office politics that made me dread Monday mornings. I no longer need to deal with the uncertainty of whether I would be laid off that made me dread Thursday mornings. I realize today that I am only really responsible for the footwork, and that I need to turn over the outcome to God, who is my ultimate employer.

So, the footwork sometimes is a bit more than just putting food on the table, clothes on my back, and a roof  over my head.  I honored the  wishes of Barb's mom not to take extraordinary measures during her last days by going to the nursing home after work to hold her as she struggled with the pain in her hands from the rheumatoid arthritis that were rapidly sapping her strength and will. I rubbed her back and told her that she did not need to struggle and be afraid of death.  In short, I tried to do everything possible to allow her to die with the dignity and respect that she deserved.

There always has been a meaning, purpose, and plan for my life. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.