As I look around my apartment this morning, and reflect on the last three months here, so many thoughts and feelings arise. In two days, I will be moving back home from here. I will be resuming an improved version of my former life with my family. It will be improved in the sense that I will be spending more time with them, due to the fact that I will continue to work remotely from home for my employer. It will be improved as well, because I decided to continue my march toward retirement in spite of the fact that my practicum didn't work out; this will leave me more time to volunteer and thus enrich and expand my life and my comfort zone.
But looking around me, I find my thoughts drawn to the lessons and the skills I have learned while living alone, and to the ups and downs of having nobody to answer to in this place except myself. A common thread through it all is the truism that you never know what you can do until you are forced to do it. I've been forced to sleep alone, eat alone, work alone, amuse myself alone, wash dishes alone, take out the trash by myself, do chores without anyone's help, and many more things.
And I have learned that I can do it. I have learned that I can survive living alone. However, I have also learned that it is a lot easier to do when I have support and connection with the people who love me. My phone has been my lifeline while living here; I talk with my husband three to four times a day on average, and I speak with my brother about once every day or so. My relationships with both of them have deepened in the last three months.
I also find myself remembering the events of the last three months and how this place has been my "home base" - a place I could be myself - a haven from the stress of being in a practicum with a supervisor who was not a good match for me, and whose attitude and words reminded me too much of childhood traumas I have never fully addressed. This place has housed me, fed me, given me a place to sleep, to think, to cry, and to grow.
And soon, I must say goodbye to it. And I find - to my surprise - that I have mixed feelings about that!
I will miss the freedom to keep my own schedule and be able to listen to music or TV programs (read: Netflix) without using earphones. I will miss the ability to sit in my chair without removing a cat or worrying about cat hair sticking into my clothing (or anyone else's who might visit me).
But I know that I will be able to bring back certain things with me - like the rugs I bought for the apartment. The big one will adorn my home office and the smaller one will be placed beside my side of our bed. My plants will be in my home office and some will go to their original perches in the front hallway. Others will go back to my work office (the ones that are poisonous to cats). The paintings my family bought for me will also go in my home office - and from the rest of the furniture, I hope to be able to make a livable space in the other room in the basement.
And I am looking forward to being able to be close to my friends and living (instead of just visiting) with my family again. Yes, even the cats - I have missed those furry folks! My own bed beckons me, as does my kitchen (which is over twice the size of this little one in my apartment...) and the other creature comforts: cable TV, access to exercise equipment for when the weather is bad, and oh yes, did I mention my family? And friends?
But this place - as eager as I am to move and get back to all I hold dear - still holds some sentiment.
It will be hard to say goodbye.
But looking around me, I find my thoughts drawn to the lessons and the skills I have learned while living alone, and to the ups and downs of having nobody to answer to in this place except myself. A common thread through it all is the truism that you never know what you can do until you are forced to do it. I've been forced to sleep alone, eat alone, work alone, amuse myself alone, wash dishes alone, take out the trash by myself, do chores without anyone's help, and many more things.
And I have learned that I can do it. I have learned that I can survive living alone. However, I have also learned that it is a lot easier to do when I have support and connection with the people who love me. My phone has been my lifeline while living here; I talk with my husband three to four times a day on average, and I speak with my brother about once every day or so. My relationships with both of them have deepened in the last three months.
I also find myself remembering the events of the last three months and how this place has been my "home base" - a place I could be myself - a haven from the stress of being in a practicum with a supervisor who was not a good match for me, and whose attitude and words reminded me too much of childhood traumas I have never fully addressed. This place has housed me, fed me, given me a place to sleep, to think, to cry, and to grow.
 |
| My plants - and other friends... |
I will miss the freedom to keep my own schedule and be able to listen to music or TV programs (read: Netflix) without using earphones. I will miss the ability to sit in my chair without removing a cat or worrying about cat hair sticking into my clothing (or anyone else's who might visit me).
But I know that I will be able to bring back certain things with me - like the rugs I bought for the apartment. The big one will adorn my home office and the smaller one will be placed beside my side of our bed. My plants will be in my home office and some will go to their original perches in the front hallway. Others will go back to my work office (the ones that are poisonous to cats). The paintings my family bought for me will also go in my home office - and from the rest of the furniture, I hope to be able to make a livable space in the other room in the basement.
And I am looking forward to being able to be close to my friends and living (instead of just visiting) with my family again. Yes, even the cats - I have missed those furry folks! My own bed beckons me, as does my kitchen (which is over twice the size of this little one in my apartment...) and the other creature comforts: cable TV, access to exercise equipment for when the weather is bad, and oh yes, did I mention my family? And friends?
But this place - as eager as I am to move and get back to all I hold dear - still holds some sentiment.
It will be hard to say goodbye.
