This isn’t going to be my usual discussion over relgious extremism or even the extremes of politics. Instead, for the first time ever I actually could feel a sense of personal peace when I went walking for aluminum cans. A small sense of happiness, dare I say it, after more than a year of personal grief and medical horrors. The book that I am writing is going well. I think that I have fully adjusted now to living alone. About the only distractions, as I sit in the living area of my mobile home, is hearing the rush of sirens out on Ramsey Road.
I walked by the old neighborhood where I once lived and talked with a couple of people whom I once called neighbors. I told one fellow, who still lives next door to the house I once shared with mom, where I now have my home; here at Oak Crest. Mom, well; it has been more than a year. I wonder what she would think of a neighbor who wanted to make this major fuss over my pets, caterwaul over how the house would “simply have to be demolished.” And it turns out, that was never the case. The old gal most certainly liked to do a lot of talking. But she also had the particularly major problem of never being able to keep her story straight. About the only reason that I figure she wanted to keep her jaw flapping, was so that she could keep stirring up trouble. I suspect, that one day it will definitely catch up with her. As of now, I can finally write this, and put an end to it. To be able to say, at long last, this is now history.
There well always be painful memories. But, by keeping the obnoxious siblings at arm’s length, time will slowly dull the edges of those memories. Quite frankly, I think that I don’t mind living alone with Shadow and Simba, two of my beloved Black Velvet’s kittens. Right now, they are already far better company than people are. I hope that they are with me for a very long time. Yeah, as far as I am concerned, the siblings can stay where they live in Wisconsin, Oregon, and the south side of the state of Idaho. The less we have to do with one another, the better off we will all be.
I remember when the sister had said she wanted to rent a cabin in Priest Lake where we could all camp out for a week or so. That was in the final weeks of Mom’s life. I would hate to have to break it to her; but something like that, as thoughtful as it might have been at the time, would not have gone over too well. After all, we weren’t the most loving of family. Within a matter of hours, we’d have been in each other’s hair, and I would have abruptly found a few excuses to no longer be there. Besides, there would have been the pets to take care of. Were I still holding a job, needing to be at work. And keeping my little business operational. Had mom lived, the sister would no doubt have tried to set something like this up. Only it would have been mom and the three siblings possibly enjoying themselves at Priest Lake. I would not have joined them for obvious reasons.
During the holiday season, the sister did send a holiday card. I threw it in the trash because I remember too well how she just loved shrilly screaming and about deafened me as her captive audience. How much she wanted to threaten what little I had and to take away more of what I possessed if she could. If she wonders why she never got a reply, perhaps she has a problem remembering how she chose to behave more than a year ago. My problem? I’ll never be able to truly forget how she chose to behave. But, at least, there will be no talk now of a rented cabin in Priest Lake.
JoAnn’s is set to open in its new location at Silver Lake Mall, 8 March 2013. That was what one of the employees told me when I briefly walked in. The place looks to be fully stocked already. And given the close proximity to Oak Crest, once I get ready to do some shopping there, I won’t have so far to lug back big sacks of yarn—say for an afghan. The new location will make it wonderful for us “old codgers” and near “old codgers” to get a good selection of crafting supplies without having to go very far. Of course, I have to see what my heating bill will look like by the end of the month, before I can decide if I want to make any yarn purchases for an afghan. With the warmer weather, the heating bill should drop somewhat.
I may never fully recover from the events of 2011. But, I do feel that this peace I now feel is substantial and long lasting.