Apartment Therapy: Living Spaces
Long time, no blog.
I've been pretty busy this past month or so and with the exception of some archived Indie Byline posts migrating to Sheriden Chanel, I haven't made much of a peep on this new online journal of sorts. Part of that is due to my obsession with one of the main priorities in my life, which is my work. The other part of it was this strange process of grieving I've been undergoing since losing my grandmother last month.
I lost her on my mother's 58th birthday. Just two days prior, my father had texted me about how well she was doing post-surgery, and then, just like that, gone. It hit me like a ton of bricks because it was the last thing that I thought would happen considering the last update I got about her. I thought I had more time. That my father had more time with her. That I would see her and she would remember me like she always did, greeting me with kisses and "Sheri Sheri" chants just like old times - a stark contrast from our last phone conversation where she couldn't remember who I was.
She had been fading for a while and when she passed, I felt sadness, but I also felt happy. I didn't like hearing about all of the pain she was in. I also felt warm knowing that she'd be able to dance with my grandfather in heaven again.
I didn't make it to the funeral because I'm strange and it honestly felt silly to drop everything to go now that she passed instead of doing so when she was alive and here. I decided to postpone next month's trip to London to create a window to visit my home state for a bit and talk to her at her new home.
Deaths have such a way of putting things that might have been stalled for a while into perspective. I remembered how short life was because of how suddenly it happened, but I also remembered how long it was since she was able to live for 85 years. Still short in perspective, but only if you waste it.
In my head, I was going to delay moving into a new place without a roommate for at least a couple of more years but decided to ask myself what it was that would make me happy. The complex answer? Establishing a life that is my own where I prioritize my wants and needs and my thoughts and feelings. The nurturer who looks out for everyone will put herself first. The simple answer? For now, moving into my dream apartment with no roommate, just me, myself, and I. Embracing and welcoming solitude.
I had the complex bookmarked for over a year, went to see it a week after she passed, fell in love, and it just felt right to move forward with my life. To move. To not just exist, but to live. And not for so many tomorrows down the line, but for the days that are more in the imminent future.
So, I turned in my app and admin fee, and shortly after my security deposit, and this summer, I'm in there. I claimed this year would be mine and that I'd ask for what I want loudly and with bass behind it in my voice. Not only that, but I'd fight.
London's still calling, just in October. A few months after I'm a bit more settled in my new abode in the A. It's been oddly therapeutic and reaffirming, beginning again.
When you have the courage to start, that's when you realize how much the things you really want in life want you back. I've relearned so much this past month. Hello again.