15, 13, 11, 10, forever.

In 15 days I will drive away from my little slice of heaven for the last time.

In 13 days I will get the keys to my almost perfect farmhouse. I will then spend the rest of the evening cleaning my empty farmhouse and making it mine.

In 11 days I will sign my name half a hundred times, agreeing to be solely responsible for repaying the generous loan my mortgage lender provided for my almost perfect farmhouse.

In 10 days I will sign my name, accepting payment, putting a price, on my little slice of heaven.

In the midst of all this, life is still going on. 

all the normal life stuff,

all the complicated Kristin stuff. 

My brain is full, 

my heart is full. 

I’m figuring out how to process all the things.

Pack all the things.

Sort all the things.

Clean all the things.

Let go of all the things.

This forever is done.

 I have a whole lifetime of forevers ahead of me.

Whether they last one second,

six months 

or six years, 

I will enjoy every moment of every forever.

friending

Friending when you’re a kid is easy.  In the fall you meet a group of people you will spend a substantial amount of time with. You find the few that don’t annoy the crap out of you and you spend time together. At school. At recess.  At lunch.

It gets a bit more complicated as you get into high school.  Mostly because suddenly there are hormones and hurt feelings and people not talking to each other.  No one says what they mean, or means what they say. It's messy. If you’re lucky you’ll have a good friend or two.

Friending as an adult is hard. I didn’t really bother with it until after.  It’s a lot of work. There’s effort involved.  Lives no longer match up everyday.  You have to make time. You have to remember they’re there. People change, make choices you wouldn’t, take different paths. Adults don’t stay put.  Distance puts a damper on actually spending time with them. New interests come in, people fall in and out of love. Occasionally, you find someone.  A human who gets you.  When you find one, make the effort.  It’s worth it.

I have more “real” friends than I ever imagined possible, they've seen me at my best, they've seen me at my worst. And they still like me.

Brother-mine.

M’Amy.

Always-Friend.

Sister-of-My-Heart.

My-Friday-Ladies.

I love each and every one of you with all my heart.

I cannot thank you enough for your friendship, nor can I express what your laughter, hugs, and sarcasm has meant to me.  What it continues to mean to me.  By the end of the summer, you'll be scattered across the globe.   Know that whatever adventure you choose, wherever life takes you, I am here.

Always.  With a couch, a shoulder, a bottle of whiskey, a smile and a hug.

I’m not going anywhere.

I am always here, my friends, when you need a break from the world, when you want a laugh, when you want to forget, or you want to remember.

I will always make time for you.

Text at 2am? Sure. Drinks at 5:15pm on a Wednesday? I can make that happen.  

I’ve leaned on each of you, your support has gotten me through some of the roughest bits of my adult life.  Each of you has helped me to realize who I am, and together, you’ve beaten it into me.

I get it.

I’m a good person.

It’s okay to care.

I’m not too much.

Doing it my way is perfect for me.

What's right for me is right for me. Ignore what everyone else thinks.

I think about each of you every day.

I miss each of you every day.

I wish each of you happiness every day.

Thank you, my friends.

I do love you so.

a tangled mess of changes

I think I may have gotten to a point where there is only one big change in progress. I think I can get ya'll caught up.  I kept sitting down to write, only to realize there was no point, as there was still more things to be sorted out, one way or another, and they were all intertwined together, a tangled mess.

When to start….I think this whirlwind started in April-ish.  
My eldest turned 13 at the end of April.
Since then…well.  
It’s been a chaotic mess.  Possibilties and choices constantly were popping up, forcing me to reevaluate my direction. repeatedly.

A rundown:

I don’t have a brain tumor, nor a thyroid problem. My brain is very pretty, I saw pictures.

I did not go to part time at the call center and sign on to stage manage the season. Couldn’t of gotten approved for a mortgage if I changed anything. Timing. It’s a bitch.

I did not get a different position in my department.  Applied and interviewed though.  Helped me realize that I really like my department, and don’t really want to move to a different one.

Enough with the did nots.

I did adjust my diet to limit salt and water. Realized I really like salty foods. Really lots.

I got the house ready to sell.  I worked on the half-finished projects with the man I was married to.  The man who helped build this little slice of heaven. That was hard. I do not wish we hadn’t gone our separate ways, I’m much happier now.  But it was still very hard to let go of this forever.  Of the cherry trees, paving bricks, homemade chicken coops.  The unfinished front step. (it’s finished now)

I listed my little slice of heaven. The “for sale” sign was set in the front yard.

I discovered I don’t like a spotless home.  I missed the clutter and muddy footprints. The dog kisses on the windows.

I found my new place.  A house that is truly all kinds of Kristin.  A farmhouse about 5 minutes my current home, built in 1900.  Cute. Quirky. Truly, all kinds of Kristin.

I wrote an offer for my almost perfect farmhouse. They accepted.

I accepted an offer on my little slice of heaven.

I had very honest conversations with important people. Conversations that left me hurt and bewildered until I sorted myself out.  Once I sorted thru all the feelings, I realized that those conversations restored quite a bit of my self esteem.  I was honest, and received honesty in return. Granted, there was alcohol involved in loosening the tongues enough to let the honesty out.  Honesty is amazing. So much simpler to move forward. Not easier, but way much better. No guessing games. Again, timing. She's a bitch.

What else….oh.

I went on a date.  He paid for food and the movie.   It was fun.  He’s a nice guy, a bit younger than me. Fun and silly. I’ve been all kinds of honest with him.
About where he falls in the order of priorities.
About how much I’m willing to give.
About how it he’ll not spend time with my kids or family for a long while.
About how I will always be honest, bluntly so, and he’ll probably not like all the words I say.

He accepted all my words, and he insists he likes my honesty, even when he doesn’t like the words.


So what’s going on right now?

I’m packing. Sorting, purging, remembering all the memories associated with all of the things.

I’m planning.  I’ve got a friend lined up to help me take the almost perfect farmhouse kitchen from 90s oak and faux granite back to homey farmhouse kitchen.

I’m settling in at work.  Only took seven months. I’m realizing the department I’m is better than the others, even if I don’t like my job, it’s tolerable and it does pay the bills.

I’m learning it’s okay to care, even though I know it’s gonna end and that’ll be sad, even when it does end, and timing’s truly a bitch. Eventually, our timing will line up. Just not today.

But caring....caring is a lovely feeling, very much worthy of the hurt that follows the caring.

And

I’m saying goodbye.  To the bits I’ll miss.  The blackberry blossoms. The scent of fresh cut wild grasses. The purple grasses that are taller than I am.  The old apple tree with branches that droop to the ground. To the sound of the wind through the tall grass, gently blowing ripples across the fields.  Truly, amber waves of grain.  To the pink sunsets and foggy grey-green sunrises.

I’m remembering it all. 
Taking it all in, for the next 29 days.
Taking in as much of the peace as I can, while it’s still mine.

So there, that’s me.  That’s what’s going on, been going on.  And I’m sure there’s many, many posts worth of words in my head about each of these things.  Some will get written, some will even be polished enough to post. And some will stay swirling about in the chaos of my memories.