Five weeks, four - teebajillion lists, three moves, two deaths, but only one meltdown in a pear, cubicle

I love a good list. I love making it, I love organizing it by time of day or priority, and I especially love crossing things off it. So, you can imagine how happy I’ve been the last five weeks. Moving me. moving my son and moving half the house to the Homeless Veterans Foundation has required lists to keep up with lists that keep up with other lists. Two households since July 15th. Dependencies that require spreadsheets. Too many phone calls with Customer Service. Too much cleaning. Documentation. And sweating. Yes, some sweating has occurred. But the lists! The silver lining in it all.

Everything ended last Tuesday with my driving away from Bloomington to my new tiny home with no television. I should be grieving now, but I’m not. Last year involved two weeks of unexpected crying jags. This year, nothing. Just relief. Relief at nothing to do, nothing to think about, nothing to worry about. Not even dinner or finagling around someone else’s nighttime work schedule or what silly reality TV show is gonna tick me off for being on the air in the first place.

Until today. Some song played that I don’t know the name of but remember being popular during a particularly emotional time of my life. And there it was taking its sweet time: the meltdown. It’s natural, I know, and there could be more to come.

But, the spawn is happy. Instead of a shrug and a “whatever”, I hear about him handling his new life with a spring in his step. It’s fun for me to think about. It’s the one thing I’ve really hoped for. So, that has minimized the sadness of it all.

Although, if I continue to connect the dots of grief, I have resorted to watching a few DVDs of Season One of the Brady Bunch. The ones when the kids were young and just starting their new family and Mike and Carol couldn’t keep their hands off each other, especially when they were answering the front door together.

Yea, I’d say there could be more meltdowns to come. When I start watching Mary Tyler Moore again with my usual glee at her life, I’ll know I’ve weathered the storm and made it, after all.