Pushing myself to speak to the painter at the house in Spanish, I asked, “¿Qué color o tenir es esto?” Later, Evelyn asked, “Did you speak Spanish? Why?” I explained that I love putting puzzles together and challenging my brain to do new things. Like how the subjunctive tense in Spanish is a real brain buster—I had it down two weeks ago, but today, I’m spinning out like a cartoon character with Tweetie birds over their head.
I sure must love myself, I thought, emptying another box of my favorite things. I’m so grateful to Jaclynn, who did all the heavy lifting to get me here, to this place where I can truly appreciate it all. At my closet desk, where I sit now, my Happy Planner is on the right, the cute lamp Maria bought me is on the left, and on the wall, there’s a honey-do note from Dave that says “Google Drive Running Out of Space.”
Guilty. I’m a hoarder of photos. But when I think about deleting them, I worry I’ll accidentally erase something important. This is interesting to hear myself say because, on the one hand, who cares, right? But on the other, there’s this painful, deep, dark hole in my soul—I lost my mom’s diamond necklace. At 16, I flung that thing around willy-nilly, even leaving it in the cup holder of my 1996 Ford Escort. Did it fall beneath the seat? I don’t think so because – believe me – I checked tens, if not hundreds, of times.
The truth is, I haven’t forgiven myself for being careless with something so precious. But wait, is it really that precious? Come to think of it, the rest of my mom’s jewelry is just sitting unworn in a plastic bag on the shelf, and that necklace, if it were still around, would probably be right in the mix too.
Like Anna in “Frozen” says, “Let it go, Let it go”—it’s just a necklace.
Our house is comfortably livable with very little left to unpack and a couch, dining room table, and chairs on the way. So now what? I suppose I can take walks, baths, read, drink coffee, cook good food, and sit back and enjoy the view.
I hope you’re enjoying the view too.
Lastly, I’ve changed my mind; I don’t care about monetizing this blog. The momentary shift to writing professional pieces felt inauthentic and unsustainable. The number of times I come here to vent or act funky fresh is frequent, so putting a box around the squiggly circle of me will not work.
That’ll do ‘er for tonight. Take care. Love, Jaclynn
*The post’s photo is of Evelyn talking to Charles, our landscaper. She brought he and his crew pineapple spears, trail mix, goldfish, bottled water and Sprite, Fanta and Cherry Coke.
Going On 40 