We ended up staying in Alabama four weeks, a bit longer than expected. While we didn’t get nearly as much done as we hoped to do, we did get a lot out of the visit.
We went with the basic plan of trying to get Steve’s mom into a more sustainable situation and getting a better understanding of what we were facing in the way of belongings that would need to be sorted and evaluated. We knew Mott (Steve’s mom) wanted to stay in her own home, and with Tim (Steve’s brother) just a quarter-mile down the road that seemed at least possible - though it puts a heavy load on Tim.
We left with a few basic repairs done, a better understanding of what would need to be done eventually, and a much clearer picture of the task ahead of us. Some of it may not be pretty, but at least we can see what is ahead.
I think the biggest lesson we brought home, though, is acceptance.
I am the type of person who will examine a problem and then want to do something. And while I have enough distance from the physical items - house, shops, cars, and contents - to be able to dig in, for Mott and Tim - and to a lesser extent Steve - this is their life, the place where they have lived for decades. Mott and Jim (my late father-in-law) built that house when they were first married. Through all the moves, all the out-of-state work assignments, all of Jim’s overseas postings, this is the place they held onto and came back to, the place they chose to live their life together, for nearly 70 years. It’s where the boys grew up, went to school, where Tim returned after college and made his home.
They are not ready for any of that to change. They are not ready for the shops to be emptied, or the contents to find new homes. For them it is too soon.
I had to come to terms with the plain fact that I couldn’t step in and fix everything; that, in fact, things don’t necessarily need to be fixed. The family is not in any physical or financial danger, they are where they are in their emotional journeys, and it simply isn’t my place to push them beyond what they are comfortable with - even when I am utterly convinced that I know best. (Feel free to roll your eyes at this one, my husband certainly does!) I have been a part of the family for 40 years, but I was never a part of the family home, and without that attachment this isn’t my business - unless or until I am asked for my help.
One big upside to acceptance, however, is that I can put away the uncertainty and distraction of the last several months and re-focus my attention and energy on my own life. Especially my creative life.
For most of the last year, as I settled into the full retirement that had eluded me for more than two years, I have been adrift. Sure, there was a lot going on with the family, and the emotional upheaval of losing two much-loved family members within weeks of each other, but was that enough to explain what was going on with me, enough to cause the kind of malaise that seemed to have overtaken me?
I may have discovered one of the downsides of having “all the time in the world,” as I talked so blithely about in the early days of this column. I simply can’t seem to stay focused on anything for more than a short while. I am able to take on an afternoon of knitting, or creating beaded jewelry, or a day of baking with a friend, but I can’t keep myself on track with a project that spans weeks or months. Like writing the next book in my series.
I don’t know what the answer to this dilemma is. Worse, something deep in my psyche - hidden even from me - makes me feel guilt and shame for not solving the problem. For not working hard enough to find the answer and fix the situation. For not being able to find a solution and implement it.
A lot of this goes back to another topic from the early days of this column: being the smartest guy in the room. I should be able to fix this. I should have an answer. That’s what I do - I fix things.
So why can’t I fix me?
I have to admit, I am out of my depth.
But maybe there is the kernel of an answer in the lesson I brought home from Alabama.
Maybe I need to accept that I can’t fix this immediately; that maybe I am not ready to accept what a major change this really is. After all, the first two-plus years of my retirement didn’t really happen. I un-retired twice in that time, so I really shouldn’t expect the third time - even when it actually “took” this time - should go smoothly.
I suspect there is still some little voice inside telling me this is just temporary, that something else will happen to unsettle my new status quo, so I might as well just wait for the next interruption rather than embrace the changes?
I will need some time to adjust my attitude, to accept that changes need to be made, and to trust that they will be changes for good - both as a measure of outcome and duration.