Waiting For Something to Happen

Learning to be Open and Unafraid Grief: The Great Learning, Day 383

Waiting For Something to Happen

I��m trying not to think of my upcoming eviction. Well, it��s not really an eviction, more of a displacement. When my father��s house is put on the market after probate, I will be losing my place to stay. I��m trying to take each day as it comes, enjoying the peace that comes from completing a difficult task and the comfort of familiarity, but occasionally I give in to a moment��s worry about what is to become of me. I could have a lot of years ahead of me, and I have no idea what to do or where to go. I have no desire to live in any particular place��and no��passion for anything at the moment��except dancing.

I only know three things — I won��t be going home to my deceased life mate/soul mate as I yearn to do, I won��t have enough money to indulge myself (at least not for long), and I want to continue taking dance lessons. The normal thing to do, of course, would be to rent an apartment around here for a while, but I��ve been reading want ads for apartments, and oh, I so do not want to live any of those places. And affordable motels around here are . . . well, they��re not the sort of places one would want to afford.

I will need a place to sleep and to find respite from the frantic world, but the idea of settling down sends my internal alarms screaming. It��s not just the possibility of stagnating that concerns me, but also being stuck with a lease, utility bills, neighbors, barking dogs. It feels like entrapment and not at all the life of a wild woman or an adventuress.

It��s possible something will happen in the next couple of months to solve my problem, but waiting for something to happen is not much of a plan. For now, not to decide is to decide, but eventually, not deciding will mean living in my miniscule vehicle, and that is not possible. No internet. No bathroom facilities. No way to stretch out to sleep. (Notice my priorities? Internet comes first!)

Actually, if I have to leave here with nowhere to go, I��ll just get a motel room for a while, affordable or not. If nothing else, it would force me out of my routine, which might not be a bad thing. It��s hard to think outside of the housing box when I��m sitting in a shuttered room.

Since I can’t come up with a solution to my dilemma,��it��s best if I��continue trying not to��think. And who knows, maybe waiting for something to happen will turn out to be a good plan after all.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, ��an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.�� Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.