Another post, from over a year ago, that deserves to be read.
I am sitting here in a half finished house with my son and his friend watching a movie and thinking about everything I have to get done. It is alot. I have learned to have patience. I have learned to forgive myself for not getting everything done that I need to. But I am coming to the understanding that I have been drowning.
First I was drowning in chaos and the fear of losing my husband and having to sell our home. I would cry alone in the shower hoping that he and the boys would not hear me. I went to a councellor who helped me accept things I did not want to, especially that it was his life and he did not have to include me in his choices of treatment. I did my best to make moving away from our home a great adventure. Moving a log house and creating a modern version of a homestead. It was exhausting trying to distract myself from real life.
When Wes died, part of me was relieved that he was no longer suffering and that we could hopefully find some solid ground to rebuild our lives on. But I was drowning in loss. Spiralling down into a place where I could barely keep up. Over the years I had been so focussed on work, family and serving on committees to make our neighbourhood safer, that I had lost touch with all but a few friends spread across the country. With the exception of one sister, my husband's family had never accepted me so they were mostly distant and sometimes cruel. Six months after our first move and a few weeks after Wes died, I managed to move our home again, get my son to school, and finally to the dentist, and squeeze in a few playdates. The local hospice helped with getting him involved in some great programs. A friend came and helped me repack all the belongings we had used in our temporary home. Every bit helped. A year after his death I was able to gather some family and friends together to remember my husband. I still have not finished all the paperwork as a result of his death, or gone through all his things and I am still in a battle with CRA who is coming after me for his tax debt even though we had no shared assets. I still cry sometimes, but the pain comes and goes rather than continuously coursing though my veins.
Now I am drowning in fear. Will I be able to get the farm running with so many setbacks - bad existing soil, more bad soil that I bought to amend the existing soil, trades that take months to get onsite, the financial costs of delays that have added up to thousands of dollars in storage fees for items I will likely just sell or donate once I have time to see what my husband put in there. Will I be able to bring in more paying work while I am busy trying to raise a child, finish the house and get my farm set up. Will I be able to afford to build my barn? Will I have the mental and emotional strength it is going to take?
I guess time will tell. For now I am going to go build some shelves in my office and storage closet so I can start organizing. Then I will go pull some weeds, feed the chickens and spread some compost. Distraction is exhausting, but if handled properly it helps get things done.