It’s 2.43am in the morning of Thursday 15th April 2016. I believe now that I am on the home strait of finally seeing the end goal of having somewhere new to live and to start the next chapter of my life.
The house has been sold, so I’m in the process of decluttering. I have been RUTHLESS!! which anyone who knows me, will understand how this is the exact opposite of how I am. I have found clearing ‘rubbish’ or deciding if I need to keep a box of VHS tapes or the floppy discs that I stumbled across very freeing.
Normally I detest change, avoid throwing things away, just in case in the pending Zombie apocalypse I might need that half used glue stick or the Gameboy SP. I think in some ways it has been as if I am clearing history, letting go off the acquired junk. Then I realised it wasn’t erasing history but ensuring that the path ahead is free from any clutter of the past relationship. Clutter….some memories or just possessions that we had gathered up together, possessions now we are apart either seemed laced with infectious irony or just meaningless material items that I no longer gain pleasure from.
I’ve watched my ex through this time sorting pictures and letters etc. she seems to have slowed down in her urgency to for a complete finality to us or defined end.
I’m throwing things away under the reasoning of
Have I looked for it?
Will I need to use it in the next two weeks?
Is it irreplaceable?
If the answers to these three questions were NO, then I happily tossed it out. I didn’t worry that someone else might need it, or in six months I might suddenly wake in a panic wondering where my roller skates from 1986 where????
(Side note. I would kill myself if I were to even contemplate skating let alone find a way to magically shrink my feet back to the size they were!)
Strangely I am looking forward to the challenges of creating my new home, colours, decorating, heck even housework knowing it’s my mess, my house, and taking care of it I am running scenarios in my head, which are no longer scary but actually optimistic and maybe evcen filled with a little hope.
By now I know you’re thinking so, you sound happy, things are progressing when’s the BUT coming?
The BUT, has the form of my furry family. I am owned and loved my five furry little gremlins, who make sure I don’t oversleep when they need out to bark at any pending danger, such as next doors cat washing herself. They make sure I know it’s time to eat, and in case I might forget they have an established ritual of jumping on my head, or barking at me to ensure I’m not asleep and that I know if they are not fed in the next thirty seconds they will pass away from starvation!
They are my comfort when it’s a bad pain day, my entertainment when a butterfly dive bombs them, and my fiercest , most loyal defenders, who create a fur wall between me and any impending threats. If you pass their sniffing test you might be allowed into the house, as for sitting too close to me, well that’s another story. They do however take their lead from me, they understand when I tell them someone’s ok, or a friend and safe to come into our domain. They also know when I use the ‘Mom’ voice that it’s time to listen.
They are tiny in stature, but in their minds they are mighty, ferocious beasts. They are my pride and absolute joy. Two of my little dudes are qualified and working therapy dogs. I cannot find the words to express how this proud this makes me, that these little guys trust me enough to share their amazing talents with other people. We work primarily with special needs kids, of all ages. The kids are stunned to see a dog arrive for class, they clamber for their turn to stroke or talk with the dog/dogs. Listening to a child with an incredibly debilitating speech impediment, read fluently to this furry little dude, who cocked his head to listen, who watched him intently but always without judgement. My little guy didn’t realise they were reading about ‘The Cat In The Hat’, he just believed they were telling him what an awesome little furry guy he was. My lil men, take their job seriously and happily accept having their nose cleaned by a helpful child when they sneeze, or wearing boxers on a visit because one of the kids was having issues wearing boxers and not his pull up nappy. My lil men listened to stories told in an indecipherable way to us silly adults, but in a way that made total sense to that little girl. I watched my little men, lean into the child, as they showed them the pictures in their books. I watched as they could walk into a classroom and know instinctively which child needed them that day, whether it was a belly rub, or a lick to their hands just to let them know, it was go to be ok. I could type pages and pages retelling the funny stories and incredible miracles that I was privileged enough to witness.
In a radio interview, when I was asked to describe it, I told them ‘It’s just like watching real Harry Potter magic’ I just hold the leash, they do all the work.
My ex has decided that she wants to contribute to their food, vet bills etc In theory sounds great. In practice I believe it will toxic. Paying towards their various needs will allow her an excuse to come ‘visit’ them, spend time with them. She knows I won’t let them out of my sight so that would involve her knowing where I live and having a reason to call.
She couldn’t be bothered with them when she lived here, I truly don’t believe it will serve any good purpose to accept her money. I would prefer she didn’t help with their costs and just left them and I to get on with our journey.
Selfish? HELL Yeah!!! I don’t want the complication, the toxicity, the drama. I know in her own way she is fond of them. With her working full time she at least was sensible enough to agree they should be with me, as I’m home and have more time for them. Will I agree that she can come see them, in theory, probably. I truly believe that the notion or novelty of her seeing them will wear off and eventually fizzle out. The question is whether or not I can suck up my misgivings and fears to allow her to get bored with her ‘dog visits’ ?
It sucks being an adult! I hate that I am feeling bad for her in case she is missing the dogs, and I know I would be devastated if I had been kept from them. It would have been so much easier if I could just be a bitch and tell her NO………..
I honestly don’t know what the outcome will be. Some days I can see clearly what I should do and other days I cannot see my hand in front of my face. I think it will be one of those decisions that I can’t make until its the only decision left to make.
Again being an adult is truly CRAP!