I have been, lately. I think that suddenly doing the quarantine singly has thrown me back in time a little. I did this dreaming when the kids were little, when the marriage was sucking me dry and not giving me anything in return. I was thirsting for something, and my dreams of escape were daily and full of despair. I was just drowning, all the time, and the shore seemed like heaven.
I’m back to dreaming of escape. My only resource, really, is this house and the equity I will have in it when the kids are grown. So, it’ll be for sale. No home for the grandkids here. Which fills me with all sorts of sadness of the future grief sort. Not to mention the weight of an imagined future grief of the kids.
And its not the same kind of escape as before. Its not an escape because my life is horrendous. Its an escape because of circumstance, and change. And that’s an entire world, you dig?
I don’t know what will happen. I don’t envision finding a partner who wants to take on the financial burden of this place, even if I got the mortgage down to a reasonable rate. Hello, quarantine/reopeningbedamned makes it pretty unlikely i’m going to be making plans of any kind for a while. (good and bad here. patience is a lesson I am always learning.)
AND, I also want to allow that my kids will be fine, that they may not have kids, might not need me to have a net for them for the rest of their lives, as much as I want to spend the rest of my life providing one. Imagining the weight of future grief doesn’t seem like the best use of my life’s moments.
And so I am thinking about what I will do then, when the littlest heads off to college or whathaveyou. Will I buy an RV to live in for the remainder of my days? (nah, probably not)
The idea that I could go anywhere, try anything, be anywhere? Its pretty inspiring. and the reality is slightly scary. Presuming that I don’t have family besides siblings at that point, will I try to get closer to them? Will I head for natural beauty? Will I aim for the small town at the center of every picturesque whitey American novel? With the little community coffee shop bustling with gourmet treats and artistic flair?
Will I just buy a little house and try to stay healthy til I die? I mean, its all the rage to be middle-aged, right? But then comes older than that.
I think I need to widen my angle a little. Maybe I’ll have a real income earning job and I can host lots of ladies here, to rest and rejuvenate and chase chickens for their own betterment. I mean, I could do that too.
There are more possibilities than I know about. I have to keep that in mind, and keep my eyes open. Dreaming of escape without despair? Should be dreamy, right?