I don't like change
It's true. As I get older, oh, hell, coming clean here, throughout my entire life, I've been adverse to change as it directly impacts my life. I'm all for technological changes, I love new gadgets that do all the cool things gadgets should do. No, it's the personal changes that occur, seemingly, willy-nilly in one's life, and all without warning.
Following a week of picking my honey's pockets with three major purchases, out of necessity, we had a major upheaval in our little household.
Bear with me for a bit of history. Our 27 year-old daughter, the last of three, moved out ten years ago for college, then to her own apartment, etc. I swear I cried for four days after we took her to school and left her amongst strangers, though she was giddy with joy at being on her own. Her circumstances are different, in that she's physically handicapped and it is difficult for her to live on her own without help.
All her independence changed one night, two years ago, when her theretofore loving boyfriend left her stranded at a movie theatre. No explanation, still to this day, just up and left her. They hadn't even argued, so it is all quite a mystery. I can't even imagine how she felt when she discovered his rest room break was he cowardly way of breaking up with her after four years. She called us and her Daddy and sister drove 2 1/2 hours to get her and bring her home, which is where she's been for the last two years.
A funny aside - a few months back, the useless lump of flesh happened to be in the same store our 6 foot tall son (the guy is a wimp under pressure,) and obviously didn't realize who was standing next to him in the freezer section, until he stood up and looked our son in the face. Son gave him his best growly face and he said the guy literally dropped what was in his hand and ran out of the aisle.
Anyway, having her home again has been a joy that I couldn't begin to describe. We've long since stopped parenting her, she's quite capable of taking care of her own affairs and needs no advice or input from us, unless she asks, so we are really the closest of friends and respectful of each other.
Fiona, my muse and leg warmerNow is a good time to say that she brought with her our grand-puppy, Fiona, the sweetest little thing ever born on this earth. We simply adore her. Fi loves us all and is equal opportunity. She spent time with each of us. Since I'm up first in the morning, she'd greet me at the door and shadow me until I sat down with my laptop and coffee. Then she'd jump up and sit beside me, serving as my muse and my buddy, until Clint came out and then it was on to another lap.
Now, for the last year, Lindsay has been dating a guy who we really like a lot. He's good to her and Fiona, and we couldn't ask for anything more than that.
This past week, Lindsay came to us with one of those, "We need to talk," talks. UGH. I hate those, even when I'm the one initiating them. She sat down and explained that she wouldn't ask us to house her boyfriend and her and that they really wanted to set up housekeeping, and as much as she loved living with us, independence beckoned, and other lame things along that line. :)
Lindsay and Fiona just before they leftYou could have hit me with a ton of bricks and I would have expected it more than hearing her say all that. Wow! My first reaction, half-kidding and hoping she'd fall for it, was that Fiona stays with us. The look on Lindsay's face told me she didn't think it was a great idea and I immediately told her I was kidding (fingers crossed, of course.) She breathed a sigh of relief and we continued the discussion.
She'd made all the arrangements to move before she told us, because we are cut from the same cloth and she understands that to drag things out would be really painful. Yes, I take things like this hard, it's how I'm wired and sometimes, I wish I wasn't, but that's me.
I've loved having her in the other room, where I could hear her voice and pop in to see her when I wanted. I loved our evenings, when she'd come out at 5 and we'd eat something yummy that Clint had cooked up and then spend a few hours together, watching TV shows we all loved. After I'd go to bed, she'd stay up with her Daddy and they'd watch a couple more hours of shows they loved before they retired for the evening. All the while, Fiona popped from lap to lap, chased after her favorite toy, and generally provided the cute factor of the household.
It all worked perfectly and I saw no reason it should change - save for love and the human need to be as independent as we possibly can be - curses to that!
Poppy giving Fiona her snackOn Friday morning, Poppy fed Fiona her snack, a daily ritual, I held her until I was afraid I'd squeeze the life out of her.
Wrenchingly, on Friday afternoon, Lindsay, her boyfriend, and my little baby Fiona, (lovingly dubbed by me, and for no apparent reason, Baby Squirrel,) moved on to the next chapter in their lives. Our house is SOOO quiet and frankly, quite empty. Fi isn't here to greet me in the morning, or bark when the doorbell rings, or to make me laugh. Clint swore yesterday he heard her barking (she yips and not much, but she likes to protect her family) during the night, and it was really difficult coming home yesterday after some errands and she wasn't there at the door to greet us with her waggy tail and abundance of enthusiasm.
Lindsay's happy and that is, above all else, what we want, but oh, how I hate change. However, I'm not inflexible and have come up with a silver lining. Now we have our guest room back and we're planning company later in the year. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that change is inevitable and you either embrace it, or you end up old before your time. That, my friends, isn't an option for me, so I'll look forward to the time when Lindsay and company come home for a visit. Until then, I have my memories and this adorable picture of Fiona.
Grammie's Baby Squirrel
Following a week of picking my honey's pockets with three major purchases, out of necessity, we had a major upheaval in our little household.
Bear with me for a bit of history. Our 27 year-old daughter, the last of three, moved out ten years ago for college, then to her own apartment, etc. I swear I cried for four days after we took her to school and left her amongst strangers, though she was giddy with joy at being on her own. Her circumstances are different, in that she's physically handicapped and it is difficult for her to live on her own without help.
All her independence changed one night, two years ago, when her theretofore loving boyfriend left her stranded at a movie theatre. No explanation, still to this day, just up and left her. They hadn't even argued, so it is all quite a mystery. I can't even imagine how she felt when she discovered his rest room break was he cowardly way of breaking up with her after four years. She called us and her Daddy and sister drove 2 1/2 hours to get her and bring her home, which is where she's been for the last two years.
A funny aside - a few months back, the useless lump of flesh happened to be in the same store our 6 foot tall son (the guy is a wimp under pressure,) and obviously didn't realize who was standing next to him in the freezer section, until he stood up and looked our son in the face. Son gave him his best growly face and he said the guy literally dropped what was in his hand and ran out of the aisle.
Anyway, having her home again has been a joy that I couldn't begin to describe. We've long since stopped parenting her, she's quite capable of taking care of her own affairs and needs no advice or input from us, unless she asks, so we are really the closest of friends and respectful of each other.
Fiona, my muse and leg warmerNow is a good time to say that she brought with her our grand-puppy, Fiona, the sweetest little thing ever born on this earth. We simply adore her. Fi loves us all and is equal opportunity. She spent time with each of us. Since I'm up first in the morning, she'd greet me at the door and shadow me until I sat down with my laptop and coffee. Then she'd jump up and sit beside me, serving as my muse and my buddy, until Clint came out and then it was on to another lap.Now, for the last year, Lindsay has been dating a guy who we really like a lot. He's good to her and Fiona, and we couldn't ask for anything more than that.
This past week, Lindsay came to us with one of those, "We need to talk," talks. UGH. I hate those, even when I'm the one initiating them. She sat down and explained that she wouldn't ask us to house her boyfriend and her and that they really wanted to set up housekeeping, and as much as she loved living with us, independence beckoned, and other lame things along that line. :)
Lindsay and Fiona just before they leftYou could have hit me with a ton of bricks and I would have expected it more than hearing her say all that. Wow! My first reaction, half-kidding and hoping she'd fall for it, was that Fiona stays with us. The look on Lindsay's face told me she didn't think it was a great idea and I immediately told her I was kidding (fingers crossed, of course.) She breathed a sigh of relief and we continued the discussion.She'd made all the arrangements to move before she told us, because we are cut from the same cloth and she understands that to drag things out would be really painful. Yes, I take things like this hard, it's how I'm wired and sometimes, I wish I wasn't, but that's me.
I've loved having her in the other room, where I could hear her voice and pop in to see her when I wanted. I loved our evenings, when she'd come out at 5 and we'd eat something yummy that Clint had cooked up and then spend a few hours together, watching TV shows we all loved. After I'd go to bed, she'd stay up with her Daddy and they'd watch a couple more hours of shows they loved before they retired for the evening. All the while, Fiona popped from lap to lap, chased after her favorite toy, and generally provided the cute factor of the household.
It all worked perfectly and I saw no reason it should change - save for love and the human need to be as independent as we possibly can be - curses to that!
Poppy giving Fiona her snackOn Friday morning, Poppy fed Fiona her snack, a daily ritual, I held her until I was afraid I'd squeeze the life out of her.Wrenchingly, on Friday afternoon, Lindsay, her boyfriend, and my little baby Fiona, (lovingly dubbed by me, and for no apparent reason, Baby Squirrel,) moved on to the next chapter in their lives. Our house is SOOO quiet and frankly, quite empty. Fi isn't here to greet me in the morning, or bark when the doorbell rings, or to make me laugh. Clint swore yesterday he heard her barking (she yips and not much, but she likes to protect her family) during the night, and it was really difficult coming home yesterday after some errands and she wasn't there at the door to greet us with her waggy tail and abundance of enthusiasm.
Lindsay's happy and that is, above all else, what we want, but oh, how I hate change. However, I'm not inflexible and have come up with a silver lining. Now we have our guest room back and we're planning company later in the year. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that change is inevitable and you either embrace it, or you end up old before your time. That, my friends, isn't an option for me, so I'll look forward to the time when Lindsay and company come home for a visit. Until then, I have my memories and this adorable picture of Fiona.
Grammie's Baby Squirrel
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