Handle With Care


I’m home alone sitting in a silence surrounded by boxes and a general pre-move mess. Gerry and I worked hard over the weekend sorting and packing. I feel good about the progress made but today my body is weary from the weekend’s activities. I am thankful for a day to rest.

There are many details to keep track of as we are on this journey to retiring, relocating, and repatriating. One of these thing on it’s own would involve it’s own manner of organization. All three together are crazy-making at times. I’ve got a black notebook that has become my constant companion filled with lists and lists within lists. I’m surrounded by calendars, Post-It notes, and a plethora of paperwork (oh my, the paperwork) to manage all of the transitions.

Saturday was a beautiful sunshiny day that we spent mostly inside packing. I’m the kind of person who, when she sets her eyes on a goal, is not easily diverted from the task at hand. It took some persuading on the part of my husband, but in the afternoon we took a break and took Maya for a walk around the neighbourhood. The time spent walking in the sunshine was just what I needed and as we walked into our yard I noticed that the crocuses and daffodils are up in my front yard–the promise of rebirth and renewal right there in front of my eyes.

Late Sunday afternoon there was a football game on TV that we stopped our mad packing activities in order to watch. I’m not a fan of the sport but I was more than happy to settle in on the sofa with a quilt and my iPad to catch up on some things I needed to do while Gerry watched the game and a pot of spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove.

“One more month” has become our mantra as we look ahead to our new life back in Canada. The way is clearer now than it was a few weeks ago as details get finalized and the unknown becomes known. This eases some of my angst and helps me sleep easier.

There are still many things to be done, perhaps even many things I should be tending to today,  but instead I’m giving myself the gift of rest. A cup of tea, some time to work on a jig-saw puzzle, curling up with a quilt and a book, a walk with Maya through the neighbourhood to look for signs of spring, a pedicure, these are the things my weary self needs to set as priority today. And I’m okay with that.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. You are on quite the journey I know well! Give yourself heavy doses of rest when you need it. All will come together and get done and you want to enjoy this journey as you do it.

    1. That is the challenge so often it seems–to enjoy the journey and not focus too much on the destination. I wonder why it is so difficult sometimes? Hope you’re doing well on your own journey, Terri. I know it’s been a long one too.

  2. I have completed one of the R’s in your mantra: retirement, unless you count my next phase as a writer and then retiring is not even true.

    One day we will be re-locating from a large, tri-level to something all on one floor I hope. This will mean culling 30+ years of stuff in the same house. You are ahead of the game, Linda. And go for that pedicure!

    1. I can’t imagine the task of moving after living in the same place for thirty years, Marian! We’ve only been here seven and it seems daunting! I consider myself transitioning to my next phase as a writer too, Marian. The retirement transition is so much different from that of our parents, isn’t it?

  3. I’ve moved many times so I feel your pain. It’s always hard and stressful. Good luck and hang in there.

    1. Thanks, Lynne!

  4. I’m so, so happy for you Linda, I just know this will be so wonderful for you! I feel the same way you do- that the move isn’t just a physical transition, but a time for change and growth and transformation in several different directions. I look forward to reading more as your journey continues!

    1. I know you’re in the midst of your own transition, Khadijah. I’m so happy for you too and look forward to hearing much more about your new adventure!

  5. Dear Linda, your posting puts me in mind of the quotation by Julian of Norwich, an English anchoress of the Middle Ages: “And all shall be well. And all shall be well. And all manner of things shall be exceedingly well.”

    1. It’s funny that you mentioned that quote, Dee, it’s been on my mind so often lately. There’s a reason for it, I’m certain, and your reminding me of it confirms that for me. Peace to you as well.

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