Uncertainty train

Here we go ... again. Last week, my landlord’s wife informed me they are selling the building. She was clearly sad, and I tried to listen kindly.

But we very well may need to move soon. We have moved too often in the past nine years. We were pretty settled here. No, it’s not perfect, but it felt like home.

My older son is doing most of the looking. He sends me the rental listings, and I agree or decline.

I wish this had all played out differently. A certain relative, whose name I will not mention, is holding back money owed us when my adoptive mom died. Enough to make a difference between renting and owning.

All I can really do is be thankful that my older son is taking the lead because it all gets my head in a tangle. There’s my usual fear of uncertainty, combined with my rage at my relative, and the everyday stress of everything else, and the net result is not very good. Did I mention stress also causes my autoimmune disease to flare up?

We are trying to keep the uncertainty away from my youngest. He has had more than enough of that in his young life.

On a happier note, I am singing in public from time to time, and that has made a positive difference to my well-being. I have also received some lovely compliments about my writing. That means a great deal to me.

And my youngest just turned 12 years old. One more year until he is a teenager. He has had several days of celebrations with friends and family. He has grown a lot this summer and has lost some of that little boy look. But he will always be the youngest of his siblings. I try not to baby him. I admit I did some of that when he was in the arm cast. Again, thankfully, we have older brother, who had to grow up too fast, who can remind me and the youngest what is best for both of us.

Still, I will be much happier when the uncertainty train stops again. Hopefully that will happen soon.