The Birth of The End

 

The Birth of The End

(Originally written on June 19, 2012)

Back on May 22, 2012 a famous surgeon and a famous oncologist told me that if I would take chemo, I would be able to have a “couple “of extra months of life.

I immediately thought of a series of times in my life that I would gladly have relinquished a “couple” of months and been grateful to have them gone to wherever non-lived lives go. Did they sink into the sofa I took to after my mother died, or did they go out with the ‘empties”? Perhaps the non-lived lives scampered down the hallway outside the principal’s or boss’s office where I have stood waiting on more than one occasion. Do they pile up in slush-like mounds of “if only” during divorce proceedings? There are myriad possibilities for non-lived lives to slither away unnoticed, leaving only pointless regrets.

However, for the last eight years or so I have been having a wonderful life. I love my life now, possibly because I have no real responsibilities. I live alone. My children live over four hundred miles away. The work I do satisfies and pleases me. My social security check is deposited to my bank. I have wonderful friends who like me want to be home by seven P.M. and don’t make phone calls after seven -thirty at night. Our ailments mostly consist of high blood pressure, cataracts and the need for new joints.

Midcoast Maine, my state of choice is breathtakingly beautiful, even in mud season. Most people who live here are pleased and proud to do so. When tourists ask us what we do all winter, we laugh. Winter is the most fun of all. We have time to enjoy each other, to have pot lucks, to do volunteer work, to knit alone or with friends, to go to book study groups/ lectures, to paint or do crafts, to enjoy the traffic less roads, to go to various meetings, and to indulge in the blessings of solitude.

I love every day of my life here in Maine. I thank God for bringing me here for a place of light and peace and refreshment. I grew up in New England and moved to New Jersey when I married. I apologize for being a sulky, unappreciative wife and mother for the New Jersey decades. In forty years I never adjusted to living outside of New England. I had a kind husband(s), good friends, a nice home and amazing children who grew into talented and grace-filled women.

I also had a very bad, sad attitude. In retrospect I understand myself to be a displaced person who never was able to be at home in a new country. I have a friend who tells me her mother, who came from Norway was like that, too.

So now I have time to prepare for moving to a “new” country. This time I’d like to do a better job of it, than I did in the New Jersey years.

I don’t want to find myself in Heaven and be whining that it is not Maine or at least New England.

This is the point of the Amen Blog. Since I said no to the chemo, I’d like to share my path out of here with you. I hope I can do a better job of it than I did in NJ. If there is reincarnation and I have to return to that state, I like to have a better attitude.

So far I am having fun preparing for my exit. I’d like to blog about the highs and maybe lows of exiting and the adventures I’m having. Currently I am visiting my daughters in New Jersey for another week or so. Guess what? It is a rather nice place with pleasant people!

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