Marching on

These past few days, I’ve had fleeting thoughts that I’m really over the hump. They’ve remained unarticulated, until now. I haven’t wanted to jinx anything. But my teaching schedule is getting lighter. So is the sky. And, best of all, February is over (see my previous post). I’ve scheduled a trip to Switzerland and Germany for spring break (barely scraped up the money, but I managed!), so the prospect of seeing my son and dear friends in Saarland surely lifts my heart.

Of course, the temperature is not 'over the hump'. It’s gotten colder. I walked to the train station yesterday, and back again after another trip to Tampere, and it was -18 C. This is not comfortable weather for walking, no matter what you are wearing. Those few days of plus degrees may have had me fooled. But seriously, it can’t stay this cold forever. So I’m trying to focus on how beautiful the ice and snow look with this much sunshine. On the train yesterday I was fascinated by how the forest looked like it was covered in glitter, and I was dazzled by the orange disk of the setting sun (at 6 p.m.!) as it was reflected on the snowy fields. This beauty will disappear once everything starts to melt and the ‘ugly’ season starts.

I’m also coming to terms with moving on in my life. I’ve held on to the idea of living in my house in Eugene – now far too big for just one lone woman – for so long. I’ve pictured myself puttering in the garden as an 80-year-old. I’ve seen imaginary grandchildren tossing the Legos I’ve saved into the air, crowing, while their parents tell them their memories of the house and point out the height marks on the doorpost in the kitchen. I’ve savored the idea of relaxing on the deck in that delicious scent of fir and roses with Eugene friends, and of finally inviting them to dinner there after years of stressed-out, single-mom life. I’ve thought about my pets aging and, reluctantly, imagined their burials along with the other pets in the backyard.

Friends from Germany visiting in Eugene

Those are a lot of things to give up. But I think I am getting closer to doing just that. The ability to do so turns on a realization I had: I can either live in that house, waiting for those occasions when my busy children will have the time and money to come visit, or I can sell that house, move into something smaller (perhaps in Finland?), and use the money to actually go see them. And there is also the socio-political issue of fairness: is it right to hold on to so much space that should be full of new tenants, not my memories?

Having this realization has also made my mood shift. Once you pull yourself out of one track full of unquestioned assumptions and pictures, I think it makes it easier for you to examine other things as well. What are the other ways I have reacted instead of acted in my life? It’s heady stuff to contemplate. It makes the world grow suddenly bigger, expands my spirit and makes me almost giddy considering the new possibilities.

For now, the possibility of putting my winter gear in storage, the prospect of a two-day teaching week, and the promise of spring break are euphoria enough. That and reminding myself how glad I am it isn’t February anymore.