Yesterday was the anniversary of the last day of my "normal" life. The last day I felt fully like myself. Six years ago today, the first (and worst) of a series of events began that have pulled me further and further from feeling my place in the world. Six years is a long time to drift and I still have no real vision of what will bring me back to a sense of stability. Who knew that at the age of 54, so much of my life would feel so far out of my control.
Today is the sixth anniversary of the terrible accident that killed my sister and my nephew. It's a loss I've learned to live with but some days my psyche and my heart finds it almost impossible to accept.
Since that day, I have been repeatedly thrust into life changing situations that have challenged my belief that a life I envision for myself is within my grasp.
Six years and one day ago, I was living in a bubble of contentment. I loved my home and my community, I had wonderful friends around me, my family was intact and we were emotionally and financially secure. That day now seems like ancient history. It all started with a devastating phone call. I relive that moment frequently in my head and still can hardly believe the news it brought. It broke my heart and robbed me the ability to believe that my loved ones are protected and safe. And now, so much more has happened I feel little confidence going forward.
My husband lost his job...not once, but twice. The first we knew was coming and we would have weathered it better if it was not in the immediate shadow of Meg's death. I was grieving while things were uncertain and I was not up to the task of providing Aaron with the support he needed. He looked for work for a year and when he found a job, it required a relocation. I was about to be faced with my next big loss....either my husband, or my home.
I chose to keep my marriage intact but the price for that choice has been monumental. I loved my home, I loved where it sat, I loved (and still love) my neighbor there. I loved my friends. I loved my place in the community. I loved the surrounding area. I loved that everything around me was filled with memories of my precious children growing up and happy times with my dear friends. In my heart...I was home.
But I left it. I can't let myself believe that it was the wrong thing to do even though my gut told me otherwise. It would have been worse to divide my family. I've regretted that I wasn't more forceful about my instincts. It's like another death to me. Just like I can't get my sister back, I can't get that life back. My homesickness is like a rotten spot on my soul. It's a festering wound that just won't heal.
The first two years in our new place were rough. I was heartsick to be here and felt tremendously displaced. Were it not for the few friends who supported me over the miles, I don't know how I would have made it. It was very difficult to meet and connect with anyone here. I felt "out of sight, out of mind" with many people I'd left behind and that was painful. Some days I'd look around and think "where am I? WHO am I?" Of course, it put tremendous strain on my marriage.
By the third year, I'd made one friend and was finally getting my head around "this is where I live." While I was still very fragile with homesickness, I was getting a bit stronger and a more peaceful in my day to day existence. Then, Aaron came home to tell me that he'd lost his job.
Aaron was working as an executive at a semiconductor company. It was a high paying position with a lot of responsibility. He was laid off because the company had hired a new CEO and (as is not uncommon) she cleared the executive decks to bring in her own team. From the moment she was hired he had an inkling this could happen, yet when it did we felt blindsided.
That was almost 18 months ago. He has been looking diligently for work all along but things far out of our control an obstacle. We are a statistic heard on the news every night. We are the "over age 50 long term unemployed". Aaron has exceptional skills and experience. One prominent CEO in silicon valley invited him out to meet on a consult and told him that his resume "glowed in the dark". But there are no jobs....there are no empty chairs. And he can't get considered for a lower level position because his experience is a "threat". No one wants to hire someone who could do THEIR job.
Our expenses here are staggering. Everything was within our budget when Aaron was working. This was not a case of borrowing more than we could afford. Thankfully we have money in the bank....we were conscientious about saving all our married life. But now we are watching that nest egg hemorrhage. We have put the house on the market but real estate is in such bad shape here that it is listed for what we owe. All our equity is gone. We can't get anyone to even look at the place. With the economic uncertainty there's no surprise there. Once again, we are a news statistic....upside down on our house and no buyers in sight.
I watch what's happening in our economy and with our pathetic collection of "lawmakers" and consider our status as a statistic and wonder if there is anything we will be able to do to get through this mess and land on our feet. It's frustrating because for almost 30 years we really tried to be forward thinking financially....to plan for our future and the future of our kids. We left the home I loved to come here because this was the clearest path to ensuring financial security. Look where it got us. Without a job or a buyer the outlook is pretty dismal and some days we are more discouraged than others. The last six years has been a long haul of heartbreak and disappointment. I'm tired....I'm tired of feeling this way. Hopelessness is draining. I keep looking for that one thing to grab onto.....like a solid stick in a flooded river. I need to grab onto something to keep from swept away, pulled under, and drowned. But, nothing feels like the solid anchor I hope to find.
I'm hesitating to push the publish button on this as the latest in a long series of woeful posts. But today's anniversary is significant. It was the first and most overwhelming loss in a series of losses that I'm struggling to recover from. It's hard for me to wrestle with any one without all of them falling on top of me.
I've been wanting to return to blogging for awhile and all this emotional clutter gets in the way. I'm hoping that if I dump it here one more time that maybe I can resume a pattern of blogging about TODAY without dragging in all the baggage of the last six years. I'm going to try. I hope a few of you out there are still with me....
Today is the sixth anniversary of the terrible accident that killed my sister and my nephew. It's a loss I've learned to live with but some days my psyche and my heart finds it almost impossible to accept.
Since that day, I have been repeatedly thrust into life changing situations that have challenged my belief that a life I envision for myself is within my grasp.
Six years and one day ago, I was living in a bubble of contentment. I loved my home and my community, I had wonderful friends around me, my family was intact and we were emotionally and financially secure. That day now seems like ancient history. It all started with a devastating phone call. I relive that moment frequently in my head and still can hardly believe the news it brought. It broke my heart and robbed me the ability to believe that my loved ones are protected and safe. And now, so much more has happened I feel little confidence going forward.
My husband lost his job...not once, but twice. The first we knew was coming and we would have weathered it better if it was not in the immediate shadow of Meg's death. I was grieving while things were uncertain and I was not up to the task of providing Aaron with the support he needed. He looked for work for a year and when he found a job, it required a relocation. I was about to be faced with my next big loss....either my husband, or my home.
I chose to keep my marriage intact but the price for that choice has been monumental. I loved my home, I loved where it sat, I loved (and still love) my neighbor there. I loved my friends. I loved my place in the community. I loved the surrounding area. I loved that everything around me was filled with memories of my precious children growing up and happy times with my dear friends. In my heart...I was home.
But I left it. I can't let myself believe that it was the wrong thing to do even though my gut told me otherwise. It would have been worse to divide my family. I've regretted that I wasn't more forceful about my instincts. It's like another death to me. Just like I can't get my sister back, I can't get that life back. My homesickness is like a rotten spot on my soul. It's a festering wound that just won't heal.
The first two years in our new place were rough. I was heartsick to be here and felt tremendously displaced. Were it not for the few friends who supported me over the miles, I don't know how I would have made it. It was very difficult to meet and connect with anyone here. I felt "out of sight, out of mind" with many people I'd left behind and that was painful. Some days I'd look around and think "where am I? WHO am I?" Of course, it put tremendous strain on my marriage.
By the third year, I'd made one friend and was finally getting my head around "this is where I live." While I was still very fragile with homesickness, I was getting a bit stronger and a more peaceful in my day to day existence. Then, Aaron came home to tell me that he'd lost his job.
Aaron was working as an executive at a semiconductor company. It was a high paying position with a lot of responsibility. He was laid off because the company had hired a new CEO and (as is not uncommon) she cleared the executive decks to bring in her own team. From the moment she was hired he had an inkling this could happen, yet when it did we felt blindsided.
That was almost 18 months ago. He has been looking diligently for work all along but things far out of our control an obstacle. We are a statistic heard on the news every night. We are the "over age 50 long term unemployed". Aaron has exceptional skills and experience. One prominent CEO in silicon valley invited him out to meet on a consult and told him that his resume "glowed in the dark". But there are no jobs....there are no empty chairs. And he can't get considered for a lower level position because his experience is a "threat". No one wants to hire someone who could do THEIR job.
Our expenses here are staggering. Everything was within our budget when Aaron was working. This was not a case of borrowing more than we could afford. Thankfully we have money in the bank....we were conscientious about saving all our married life. But now we are watching that nest egg hemorrhage. We have put the house on the market but real estate is in such bad shape here that it is listed for what we owe. All our equity is gone. We can't get anyone to even look at the place. With the economic uncertainty there's no surprise there. Once again, we are a news statistic....upside down on our house and no buyers in sight.
I watch what's happening in our economy and with our pathetic collection of "lawmakers" and consider our status as a statistic and wonder if there is anything we will be able to do to get through this mess and land on our feet. It's frustrating because for almost 30 years we really tried to be forward thinking financially....to plan for our future and the future of our kids. We left the home I loved to come here because this was the clearest path to ensuring financial security. Look where it got us. Without a job or a buyer the outlook is pretty dismal and some days we are more discouraged than others. The last six years has been a long haul of heartbreak and disappointment. I'm tired....I'm tired of feeling this way. Hopelessness is draining. I keep looking for that one thing to grab onto.....like a solid stick in a flooded river. I need to grab onto something to keep from swept away, pulled under, and drowned. But, nothing feels like the solid anchor I hope to find.
I'm hesitating to push the publish button on this as the latest in a long series of woeful posts. But today's anniversary is significant. It was the first and most overwhelming loss in a series of losses that I'm struggling to recover from. It's hard for me to wrestle with any one without all of them falling on top of me.
I've been wanting to return to blogging for awhile and all this emotional clutter gets in the way. I'm hoping that if I dump it here one more time that maybe I can resume a pattern of blogging about TODAY without dragging in all the baggage of the last six years. I'm going to try. I hope a few of you out there are still with me....














