This is probably the place I love the most, where I feel comfortable and fully me. It is also the place where I feel the weight of the family and where my role feels like it was defined when I was a little girl and there is no possibility for me to redefine it and be less nice and less of who I am right now. There is less room for me to make mistakes and try something different. I am the oldest, responsible with a well-behaved life.
Now the door is open and I have a marvellous opportunity to explore, to try something new but I don't know what. I don't know if I have the energy or the commitment to give to something new. Today that sounds pathetic but I know there are times when a date or a conversation can make me run back home and shut the door and all I want to to do is knit and watch Two and a Half Men (which has taken a while but it's grown on me. At least there's some growth somewhere!)
This weekend was the second anniversary of the death of my daughter. Unlike the birth of my son, I don't know the date and I don't want to. There is a race that is run on the anniversary, however, and so I am reminded. "Are you going to watch?" asked my hairdresser. "No," I said simply. And Christmas also reminds me of that Christmas and vestiges of the black cloud return. Aah, my poor little girl, and you were such a fighter. She was a strong little character with lots of energy. If she had lived, I would probably be exhausted and arguing with her right now. Bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger. (It's a good word. I never use it but it seems apt here).
So, this door is open and I can attempt to reshape my professional life. Should I? What should I do? What can I do? Aah, that last one is the tricky one.