Change is inevitable, nothing is stagnant. Even in geological time a million years can go by then suddenly a granite boulder will fall from its rocky pedestal. The world has changed. Life is the same but the perspective has shifted. Dreams are shattered but the tools to build again are resolute.
There are no shattered boulders in my household but there is one less person. I helped my oldest son move to Tucson. Jeremiah is off to study cosmology at the University of Arizona. In the last two years five humans, three large dogs, a cat and a cockatiel have lived in a 1500 square foot townhouse. Jeremiah moved back home in 2009 after the economy hit the skids. It was no longer possible to work, to go to school and support himself.
For twenty-four months all of our kids have been home bringing wonder and horror into the household. My younger son and daughter didn’t get the chance to move out even though they are of age - economics were just too tough. The swagger of Jeremiah, the one who has been on his own, didn’t set well with the other two. Resentment fomented but Joey’s and Abby’s attitudes weren’t pristine. Sometimes I think their manner was meanness, pure-d.
Add to this a household financial situation that has been on the brink of collapse. Absolutely, it has been a bloody struggle just to keep a roof over our heads. My wife has retrained to better handle the vagaries of crazy politicians trying to destroy an already unconscious economy. I feel like I'll be working nights for $10 and hour for the rest of my life.
Jeremiah has moved away and I am very lonely and sad. I wish we had more money to help him, but maybe the tense finances will cause him to focus on his goals. The local credit union gave him a personal loan to make the move to Tucson and begin his adventure into the cosmos. This kid has better credit than I do. I was a little jealous at first, but then I realized his staying with us helped him keep his bills current. It might as well be me to take the credit hits. My prosperity of earnings is already in the toilet.
A portion of the loan went to getting his car fixed and replacing a tire on our vehicle so we could load it up with his boxes. He would save the cost of renting a moving van for the 180 miles to Tucson. All tolled, it might have been cheaper to rent the moving van. Perhaps he needed to feel our support in the start of his new life. Our little convoy pulled out at 9:30pm and we didn’t stop till we got to Tucson 12:30am.
I don’t know what I could have done to make our life easier financially. Perhaps my mistake was not becoming an investment banker. A writer and a musician on average make a lot less than the typical banker. Of course my decision to disdain the corporate elite was done out of integrity and a blind obsession to make art. Making money would come with the development of my craft (I told myself). However, I did not anticipate the lengthy illness that kept me on my back for years. I didn’t consider the ignorant and destructive shift the world would make. The planet is going to hell and it wants me to go with it. I’d just as soon take a pass.
My younger son and daughter are much happier now that Jeremiah is out of the house. Abby no longer shares a room with Joey. She has repossessed the room that Jeremiah took. Joey and Jeremiah couldn’t get along in the same ten foot square space; so Abby relinquished her room. She has made good use of the surplus shelving in the garage. Her room is transformed; better than it was when she first lived in it. Joey has his room to himself and his Japanese studies can prosper even more than they have been.
The clutter that pervades the entire household may finally subside; probably gradually. Less and less space is occupied by warm carbon units sucking air and billowing CO2. Jeremiahs departure comes at the heals of the death of a beloved dog. Wishbone was our fifteen year old Australian Shepherd. He was strong, intelligent and the alpha dog. He kept the boisterous golden Lab in check and was a friend to the Vizsla we rescued from the Wal Mart parking lot.
The house is much less noisy without Wishbone's constant barks at Lucky. Now there is one less kid. No barks no bickering, no arguments. I live in a tomb.
Good heavens! I’ve looked over this missive and realize that I’m sitting square on the dreaded “pity pot.” I’ve never figured out what I should be doing on such a pot other than feeling sorry for myself. Do I pee or poop in this pot?
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