A haibun and a Dear Emma journal…just thinking on paper

 

It’s driving her bonkers visiting so many condos. She is working still but this new place should be affordable when she no longer works and accessible to basic needs. Public transportation must be achievable so she can still get around at all hours of the day and evening. She loves the city for the culture, education and so many interesting events. She loves to read and if her new location does not provide what she needs in books, she wants to be able to hop on a bus and go to her Alma mater, having access to it’s library.

visiting
searching
a place to call home

visiting
private homes
of strangers

searching
impossible dreams
peace of mine

a place to call home
yet, fearing isolation
single … not alone

(c) Tournesol ’19/10/30

Yesterday she heard a radio broadcast of a man who retired. He talked about how it was a terrible shock to him. She has been planning to write more and teach English part time on line or in person when she retires. She planned on volunteering doing group work like she did a few years ago but somehow she did not feel “at home” in community outreach programmes like she did in Toronto. Why was that? Was she tired of volunteering in the mental health world where she has worked for almost 4 decades, volunteering and working? Well, that would make sense. Even if she offered workshops, she knows she would still be drawn into their narratives that pull at the heartstrings.

And, to hear this man voice his misery with retirement, jolted her. She thought about the time when it will be an END…rather than her usually way of thinking that it will be a new beginning. Even if she got certified to teach last fall, she never really grasped the idea of cutting ties to workforce. She remembers not working for one year when the children were little and she found work to do from home to keep her sanity. Somehow, being productive AND connected to people was a need and not just a desire.

How did she get here? She has always talked about volunteering and working part time here and there to fill her time. She has relished the idea of going to a library or coffee shop with her laptop and writing to her heart’s content. And yet when it is a choice and something in the future, it looks like a dream come true. When it gets closer, it feels like a death sentence. Oh my, why is she seeing her future so bleak? Is it that time of year?

November approaching is like opening your heart and home to death. The only good thing about this month was her first child was born on the 7th. She feels herself slipping into the darkness of despair and numbness. Knowing it is going to happen; understanding the why’s and how’s makes it even more frustrating because that mood just takes control over her. It snickers and sometimes bellows at her weakness. It weighs on her like a heavy duvet with iron fists keeping her under, and all she can do is concentrate on breathing…waiting for a break in that dark sky. Until then, she will go through the motions…work three days a week; listening to the darkest stories from callers, searching for hope. She sometimes, feels like a hypocrite not being able to take her own advice. She can hear them, feel them, open her heart to them and engage them and help them get to a safer and lighter place even if it’s just for a night, one more day, one more week. If only she could have someone like that to do the same for her.

It is probably one of the toughest parts of being in the service profession. Police officers, first responders, nurses, physiotherapists, massage therapists, doctors, teachers and social service workers and any other outreach career, have the same risks of slipping. Some take comfort with their family, friends and balancing self-care. Others drink too much or eat too much. The things they see or hear are not things you can share and vent with a friend.

In Toronto she had a great therapist (doctor/masters in social work) covered by healthcare. She was even her doctor and her support was helpful and refreshing. Even her doctor would pick her brain on ideas for clients she had who were parents.

She doesn’t feel it really matters where you live. It is how she feels inside…the heart of any home is the soul of the person living there. The living space can be spotless or cluttered, shiny or dreary, quiet or noisy, it all depends on what is going on inside that person. However, lots of windows make a huge difference…just being able to look at the sky; looking out and also seeing life around her like pedestrians, cars, squirrels and chipmunks. Seeing life is vital…it is a connection to the living and she can relate more and more to older people she worked with years ago. She is minutes away from any of these persons now.

She so admired their energy and persistence to keep moving and staying involved with social events. She wonders what their secret was when that heavy duvet weighed them in the morning or when it hurt to move a muscle or hurt even more to open their eyes. She did get advice from her 90 yr old aunt one time. Roll out of bed, shuffle to the bath and run a nice hot bath to oil the joints; then you can move!
She does this on most mornings now.

Maybe she could learn from more retired people. Experience is worth its weight in gold…now she is feeling a bit more hopeful. Thanks, Emma, for listening.

Daily moments Oct 30 2019, clr

 

Children killing children?

me as a child942375_382272448543747_1790382481_n

Toddlers and pre-school children are supposed to laugh until they pee their pants, play with silly putty, draw, paint with their hands and feet, walk barefoot in mud puddles, make mud pies, pee in the pool, eat chocolate cake with their hands and smear the frosting on their chubby cheeks, jump on their beds, make houses with the couch cushions…okay, alright already…maybe play games on the computer or  tablet  but the mud puddles are way more fun!   Am I right?

Well, I hate to burst your bubble, folks.  I just logged on to Facebook,  before I get ready for a nice long weekend of leisure….no problems…not worrying about the world,  not worrying about youths in crisis because I know if they call the youth line where I work, they will be in excellent hands.  I can just feel free like a butterfly until I saw THIS…{I have no clue how to embed links so sorry for that}

Toddlers Killed more Americans than Terrorists did this year!

 

If you are like me, you will NOT  have be able to read the entire article…skimming quickly through tears was about all I could manage. What is going on people?!!! Of course I am anti-gun but still I am willing to live and let live…and if parents like to go hunting….well lock up the friggin weapons!!! Keep them in a place no ONE will get to or find.  Maybe, just maybe, when you are all done with your hunting trips…how about locking up the weapons in a POLICE warehouse somewhere….guarded by real MEAN guards!!

{I am so stark raving MAD right now…anger is so much better to handle than intense sadness}.Notice how I have used ONLY the term WEAPONS!  That is what they are.  They are made to KILL. Aw, yes, you will say but it is for killing animals. Hmmm, last I checked the same ammunition actually CAN and DOES KILL HUMANS.

I am just so angry, sad, frustrated….now this did NOT make my start of a great weekend…THIS is the reason I don’t watch the news or buy newspapers…guess I am going to have to cut Facebook because there is always someone who wants to  share bad news:(

Maybe this was a bad Thursday the 13th hoax…I am hoping that perhaps this is a hoax…yeah, that`s it! It may be a hoax that has gone viral…yeah, that must be it…

PS. if this IS true, no matter how frustrating this is, my heart goes out for the grieving parents…I cannot begin to imagine their grief:(

© Cheryl-Lynn Roberts, June 13, 2013