Turmoil...or just whiny?

Song of the day: “1,000 ships” by Rachel Platten. Lovely song, and I often have it tumbling through my brain over past few weeks.

Life is in somewhat of a turmoil again. Nothing bad…except for grandpa passing on, of course. That goes without saying.  There are still quite a few moments that we get that…oh, right, he’s gone, and we won’t be doing that together again, but other than that, we’re managing to find our peace with this particular issue. But turmoil regardless.

I don’t know what my problem is lately, but I find that my nerve endings are way too raw. Everything hits just a little too deep, which is affecting the quality of life as it is quite a bit. I don’t know what to do about it, really. Rationally, I realize that the past few years have been…difficult, and that that is bound to leave a mark, ripping all the emotional nerves to shreds (too much change, too much worries, too much everything), and all that. But there is this part of me that wants to hide away from all that and be in a world that doesn’t disturb my balance, if you get my meaning. Not too much pressure. Not too much…anything. Just time to…breathe. (This is tired, night time me, talking, by the way. I feel much better in the mornings.)

I know that it (life without unbalancing events) isn’t really possible, because no matter how hard you wish it, you can’t really live in a bubble of emotionless equilibrium. Life is messy with twists and turns you don’t see coming, as it throws you a neck breaking curve every now and then. It is just that lately there have been so many nasty curves; it makes me weary of what will happen next, which I dislike.

Normally, I prefer to look at life positively, see it as an adventure, but the last few years…I don’t know. There are moments that I can be perfectly content. Especially at work, or when, on rare occasions, I manage to do some writing. Those are the times when my thoughts can leave me the f**k alone. On other moments, luckily much rarer now, my thoughts are my biggest enemy. But then…not much you can do about that except shoulder on and handle “life” as best you can, right?

So, what’s the latest? A couple of weeks ago I gave up on big brother coming up scratch about calling our father, and did the honors myself. Got his answering machine, of course. Have I got splendid timing, or what? Finally I get up the nerve, and there I am listening to an answering machine. And I suck at answering machines. I stumbled my way through a message and then hung up, promising myself I would try a couple of times more and then stop beating a dead horse. Felt way too much like Mini Me, way back when, trying to get through to daddy. Anyway, on the following Monday the phone was picked up and I heard a familiar voice. It was a little scratchier than I remembered, but also the same. Very strange.

We were both a little awkward, I think, but we did manage to talk a little, and agreed to meet after a couple of weeks due to a joint logistics problem with work. Rather than sag back in old patterns of all of us going out to eat and talk, I hopped right in and suggested our father and his wife come to eat at our place, considering Land Lady had kindly offered that we could have dinner guests in the main room if we wanted. Sorta doing it on “my turf”, you know. Rather than be insecure Mini Me. Felt better, anyway.

You’d have thought I’d have been stressed out about that, but oddly enough I wasn’t. Not really. I’ve done enough cooking for some pretty difficult people (not saying that he’s difficult, just…well, you know) not to feel stressed about my cooking. In fact, cooking always calms me. I’m creating and that is always a good feeling…not to mention that I don’t have a lot of time to worry while cooking. Hah.

For myself, I felt I had broken through an unhealthy pattern, so I could just let it go, and wait for the day to arrive.

Spent the day before in the kitchen, of course. Sundays are working days for me, and to cook everything after that, felt like a bit too much of a chore. So instead, I spent my second free day in the kitchen, creating. Made a rather nice creamy mushroom pie. Had big brother pick that one. I was doubting about making a leek quiche instead, but big brother preferred mushroom. Mushroom it was. Added to that, I prepped a buckwheat rainbow salad (all colors veggies and boiled buckwheat) with a yogurt dressing. A rice feast with all colored peppers, eggs and cheese as a main dish, followed by a winter pudding that was cream and gentle on the tongue. Nothing too fierce, but round in taste, I thought. A couple of these dishes should end up on the cooking blog for sure. I just need to find the time to jot them down…I know, bad Sammie for not doing that more often. I try. I beg points for that, at least. Hah.

Anyway, had everything prepped and ready except for the main dish that still had to go in the oven after cleaning up and work. Did a quick clean of the house as well. Personally, I can live with spiderwebs in the corners, but one does like to give a good first impression. *chortle* Had Land Lady a little exasperated. For some reason she thought I was stressing about the whole thing, but I wasn’t really. I was just in the zone, if you know what I mean. The way I figure, whenever I get the itch the clean (once in a blue moon) more than just the basics that are necessary for hygienic purposes, we might as well make use of it. Besides, I’m a professional cleaner these days. I’ve got a rep to uphold. Hah.

Work was…interesting that morning. I did the usual running around because we are still understaffed, had to go in conference with big brother to deal with a technical problem at the company, and did the water testing, as agreed, before going back home where I wanted to take a quick shower. The weather was horrid. The cold is coming in. Storms and last night we had an actual freeze. I was friggin’ freezing this morning…and that while I’d only slept 2 hours…okay, now I hear you wondering: Why did she only sleep two hours last night.

Yep. The DINNER: Prepped everything, including setting the table, and then sat down for some relaxed reading. The afternoon passed within no time, and suddenly the doorbell rang. While big brother put the dogs in the kitchen, I went to open the door and was momentarily startled. Seriously, I was standing there, looking at this older man (I don’t know why, but in my mind he was of course much younger) and my first (somewhat sad) thought was: oh my, we’re all getting old. A sad realization, that, in particular since I’m not all that old yet. Getting there, but not yet.

So, yeah. I have another twenty something half brother, who is apparently curious about us. I can admit to the feeling being likewise, but then, I’ve always been incurably curious. Littlest brother apparently cooks, too. Italian: Smart kid. And he’s living (you’re not going to believe this…it is sooooo mean. Hah) in the States. Yep. This is me, being jealous of a 23 year old. Who’d have thought it, right? Don’t get me wrong, he can keep the 23, gawd knows I was a complete and utter mess at that age, and I’ll skip that part, thanks. We will have an excellent excuse to go visit some day, though. Poor kid; getting a visit of his old brother and sister. Hah.

Ah well, back to reality. Had planned on a dinner of a couple of hours, maybe three at most, but that was stretching it because I feared there would quite a few uncomfortable silences…there were a few, naturally, but we ended up talking and eating until eleven in the evening, with none of us the wiser until it was really late. He changed some, I think. Has less barriers thrown up, I think. And there was more affection in his gaze then I used see. Perhaps I wasn’t perceptive at that time (possible, was very young) or he has stopped hiding it under the corporate varnish. A working day was to follow, so we said a hasty goodbye, waved the couple out and started getting ready for bed. A strange, almost surreal evening, from my perspective. Am not entirely sure what to think of it. I don’t want to make something big of it, if it isn’t that, but I am trying to look at it with a somewhat clinical detachment, trying to figure out how I tick inside, if you know what I mean, but it is...I don’t know what to call it.

I find it scary, I’ll admit.  Scary what it does to parts of the old me. Something like this used to mean a lot to me, and there is that part of Mini Me that still feels that way. But there is also a tougher shell of me. A part that looks at it from all those pesky angles of adulthood, weighing out the risks, thinking of the statistics, remembering events from the past, examining them to death in a way that won’t have any use at this late date until I feel…mangled again. Strange huh, how events, words, actions from the past can affect you in such a profound way. I have to say that it is a very unpleasant experience. And I do admit that in this, I wish I were more like Big Brother, who can be wonderfully stoic in times when I feel like life in general is completely topsy turvy. It makes me realize that our different approaches to life are on the most part complementary. Where I overthink and over-invest myself in things and people, he has a tendency to withdraw into himself until he’s got nothing to care about and is all alone…which is not something I wish for him. In that regard we still need each other, just like when we were little kids. Hah.

Aaaaargh.

You see what I mean about overthinking things? Let’s just say that it is starting to become clear to me that for now I need to keep life uncomplicated, maintain as little baggage as possible, and just enjoy things a bit, including this “getting to know each other again”  stage (am incredibly curious about the extended family. Can you imagine the stories, all those events of all those different lives. It would be fascinating), and have a little faith that this latest adventure might not be the disaster I sometimes fear it will be.

Besides my usual mantra of: I won’t care about things that I can’t change, I’m repeating these for now: I don’t need to be perfect. I don’t NEED to keep it all together even when I feel I’m falling apart. I don’t have to get it right in one go. I can make mistakes (and I WILL, just for the heck of it, so there!) and it won’t be the end of the world. I am allowed to just be me. I don’t need to be ANYTHING but ME…that’s what I’m telling myself anyway. Just give me a little time to actually believe it *wink* I’ll get there.

But enough soul searching. There is such a thing as doing too much of that carp.

What else has been going on?

Work, of course. Did some carpentry, which was a nice change and got to crawl under the saunas, which wasn’t such a nice change. Seriously, this ol’ bod wasn’t made to crawl into small spaces and hose the dirt out. Added to being understaffed, our team leader got forced free time, leaving us with even less hands, which is completely and utterly ridiculous. Ah well…luckily it is not my company.

Added to all that jazz, I threw out my back a couple of weeks ago. Think it was a combination of work (doing windows…or more accurately the outside of a glass balustrade of about…oh, 140 feet. It was a beaut of a job) and a very cold night on a bad mattress. Seriously, I considered calling in sick a time or two, but managed to persevere. Couldn’t figure out what had caused until it started to get better and agreed to clean a glass wall of a cozy sixty feet. Yep. Felt that one for sure, and the coin finally dropped. I did speak with the in-house physical therapist and he gave me some helpful tips (nice kid), I good a new, proper mattress, which is making a lot of difference. Apparently I need a sturdy one for my back to align properly…those pesky loose limbs. I need to get back to the gym, darn it. Pounding a bag for a while should do a world of good in improving my mood, I think.

Well, that should do it for now. In regards to grandpa…in December Cousin Ed, Tenant, Big Brother and me will be getting together at the old castle with his ashes, and spread them out. I think he would have liked that. When he spoke of that place and how he grew up, it used to be with a certain fondness…and I wouldn’t know where else he would want us to take him. In the end, it will be more for us, our saying goodbye to him, more than anything anyway…I think. I’ll let you know how it goes.