Monday, September 26, 2016

It's just stuff.

The way people think is very complex, but I usually think of it in this way for myself. I have my logical mind where I can logically think things through, understand situations and their implications, and make good decisions. Then there's my emotional mind where I react instead of act, I'm upset but not sure why (look out when I'm in one of those moods), and I ruminate over things. And unfortunately, my emotional mind is usually playing catch up with my logical mind. My logical mind keeps talking, but it takes a while for my emotional mind to listen.

And that's what's been going on during the last month or so. As you know, after years of idle talk about what Ward and I wanted to do in the future, the future jumped out and tripped us. All at once we were in the midst of buying and selling a house. And I mean, it was only four days from our first talk with a real estate agent until we had a contract. And our heads haven't stopped spinning since then.

Well, a week ago an important piece of the puzzle fell into place--meaning that we actually closed on the new house. After signing the papers, we went to claim our newly purchased house. But instead of being excited, I felt scared and sad when we went inside. I definitely wasn't happy. All I could think of was, "What had we done?"

I cried. I lost sleep. I yelled at Ward. It was not a pretty picture. I tried to convince myself that it was only a house and Ward and I would be happy wherever we were. I tried to remember how much I liked the house when we first saw it. But once again, my logical mind was way ahead of my emotional mind.

And then one day, my muddled thoughts became clearer. It was not the house that was the problem, it was the emotions that it triggered involving my own parents. You see, we bought the house from a 94 year-old woman who had reached the point where she could no longer live alone in a big house and had to move. Just like my mother did 8 months ago. This woman's husband died three years ago, just when my father died. For me, the emotions that came with aging parents were represented in that house. After I figured this out, I started to feel a little better. Because the house was really just a thing, it was not the people in it. Like most everything else, it was just stuff. In fact, I walked around saying, "It's just stuff," all the time.

And then a couple of days ago, an interesting thing happened. Aunt Martha and I were at the new house cleaning floors and I found something in the back corner of one of the closets. It was a little fishing sinker--just like the ones my father used to make. And it made me smile. I'm not sure if I believe in signs, but I took it as one. I thought it was my father's way of telling me that we had done the right thing. That this was the house for us and we were going to be happy there. And we will. :)