It was going to be a tough Covid party to hold, so I when I cancelled my party, in the midst of my friend's Christmas dinner plans and vacations, I was feeling alone in my strictness, and a little unsure that this was the only way. It was the best way, but it felt like it cost me the most. I was at peace with the decision, but not happy about it. Six months earlier, I had given up the dream of Christmas in London and New Year's in Paris for this milestone year, in the midst of Covid, but I really had hoped to keep the tradition alive of my Megapalooza party with the wonderful women in my life. As the 5th wave broke and my peers were not protecting their shifts or me, I settled on a compromise that made me happy. A group of six who were all vaccinated, respectful people, whose lives intertwined at the best of times, plus my daughter and me. It would be sedate, but a celebration nonetheless, and an opportunity to hand down the "old lady" stick that had made its rounds down to me, the youngest of the crew.
Alas, the Christmas plans that people were making were too risky for me to have them over on the sixth day of Christmas, and I couldn't expect them to self isolate (I have a small life, but they do not) for my party in lieu of their get-togethers, that would inevitably involve eating. I wanted eating too, or it wasn't much of a party. Wearing masks, 2 m apart, no food or drink. I cancelled, and resolved that I would not turn another year older until I could get together with friends. That was my intention, until I woke up that morning. My declaration had done nothing. I was 50 and there was no way around it.
I had stayed up late the night before, cleaning the kitchen and making crepes so that my daughter would have a treat. As the only child of a part-time single mom at home, I didn't want her to make up the lack of other people in my life, but I was hoping to inspire her to at least make a nutella banana wrap for us. Sure enough, she brought us breakfast in bed, and we ate together then read together until the doorbell rang. From that moment on, it was hectic! I have had calmer days on call, with calls coming in 2 and 3 at a time. I would hold out my phone for her to answer my cell because I was on the housephone, and I was answering the door with a phone pinched between my ear and shoulder to reach out for the package or flowers or cake!
I had two things to do, and I only got one done, because my unplanned day was too busy!
I went for a walk with two of my friends. We went around for longer than expected, and I was cold and ready to get back when they surprised me with a tailgate party of hot chocolate, and a box filled with gourmet goodies that only these talented ladies could do! Homemade lemoncello cake, pesto, lentil soup, fried rice, cheese and grape starter, bubbly, vichyoise, falafel mix, muffins and more! It was a box packed with love, and wrapped with reused recycling. It was kindness and love in edible form, and it was just what I would have wanted, and I didn't even think to ask for. Four of the "chicks" had gotten together, but the organization went further than that. Another neighbour came by with a tin of cookies, and the party planning friend that had insisted I do something special for the day, and I felt terrible to cancel on her, had brought her own version of a tailgate party, with a bouquet of vegetables and a tray of snacks that travelled around the world - spanish olives, french brie with crust, skewers of insalata caprese and roses of smoked salmon (her favourite protein). With real champagne (hard to find with the run on SAQ items from the warehouse strike), and balloons, added to an enourmous bouquet of flowers my parents sen, I was missing nothing but the company. ( I would have given it all up for the company in a heartbeat).
My daughter and I ate with a new Disney movie to watch. I opened a nice bottle of Cab Sauv and we watched the show uninterrupted, only because I turned off the ringer early on when I saw we would never make it through otherwise. The house was a mess, and my daughter was off to bed early (getting ready for the marathon of staying up past midnight tonight), so she sternly told me to leave it, and I went to bed with three books, reading until the day ended.
So much for 49 bis, and so soon the next decades will come.
Betty White died at 99 today, and I am inspired to have half her spririt at the end. How much she must have had at this age to be there, taking jokes and making them, as quick as ever, with a slowing of her body, but never her mind.
I have talked to people across the country over the last 24 hours, and these things stand out the most:
I don't see what others see, but what I have (at least far away and in small doses) is valuable.
I have a lot yet to do, and a lot to say, and I had better, as my Grandma would say "get cracking"!
I need to transition, and soon, to doing something that I love, for work.
I need to get my house in order, for my sake, my daughter's sake, and for the sake of the limited time I have to do many things not yet done.
I need to find a way to bounce back from a work day with a bad sleep schedule to a healthy day and good sleep.
I need to write, and create, and record, and remind others more of how special they are.
I need to take the time alone as precious and use it for progress in solitary pursuits. I need time alone, and yet mourn when I get it and don't use it well.
I need to stop waiting for Princess Pirate to learn these things from me. I need to build the curriculum and the house systems without her. I have to stop being afraid of the loss of opportunities that she chooses not to take, and have faith that it will come to her when she is ready.
I need to guard my introverted strengths voraciously, and be my own thinktank. If I am frustrated, I need to write about until I come up with solutions.
I need to be alone a little longer until I cherish being alone. Until I can say no to an invitation. Until I lose my fear of missing out (FOMO).
