At some point in life, we each have to come to the realization that this world will, one day, pass us by, and that all the little annoyances and major problems with which we grapple daily will be meaningless. I comprehend that fact rationally in terms of my own life and my own mortality, but I wish it could be part of my entire being rather than just a concept I sort of "get."
At this very moment, Kaia and I are winding down from a crazy-busy whirlwind of a weekend. We did a lot, and yet, not that much. We hung out with friends, kicked back at a few bars, did a few restaurants, walked around, did some shopping, did some people-watching, and, basically, spent the entire weekend together. She's going back to Cali on Tuesday so between the weekend winding down -- the Sunday blues -- and her impending departure, I'm somewhere between sullen and petulant.
To add to the mix, I've got some issues with my landlord that need to be resolved in the next 48 hours. That pressure, coupled with my sister's situation with her landlord -- we both live in buildings owned by the same group -- is weighing on me as there's a business relationship beyond us as tenants in their buildings.
What's also weighing on me is my grandmother's situation; as of this moment, she's in a rehabilitation center upstate, but because she's so geographically removed from us, we're trying to get her into some sort of assisted-living facility near us. It's likely going to be somewhere in New York because of the way Medicare and her insurance function; but inasmuch as it will be sometime soon that she is living closer to us, it's upsetting that she's being uprooted and moved in part against her will. If she had her druthers, I suppose she'd prefer to stay where she is, living where she has been and going about her days without interference or anyone else's involvement. But as I'm learning more intimately these days, the march of time waits for no one. Or as a dear family friend told me recently: "people get older."
My mother, thankfully, has been doing very well with her recovery, and much like thinking about my father's health, her situation has not been first on my mind these days. It's not that I don't worry or care about her well-being; it's more that she's out of danger and that there are lots of other pressing problems weighing on me.
If I were purely selfish, I would guess that a large reason why I'm in the place I'm in is because I am not looking forward to Kaia leaving; I'm actually dreading it, actually. We've spent so much time together since she got here on the 29th that, again, as per usual, she's become a part of my daily routine. We were walking somewhere in Soho this afternoon, and, as per usual, I reached my left hand down a bit and it naturally found hers as if brought together by magnets. It just feels right when we're in one another's presence, and her leaving -- for us both -- upsets that natural symbiosis that works so perfectly and so effortlessly. So in essence, her leaving and returning to address her obligations and a big part of her life are mandatory -- but it doesn't mean I have to happily -- or willingly -- accept it. So until she's been absent for a day or two, I'll be kicking and screaming in my head and my heart until I finally do.
As a good friend used to say, "In a hundred years, no one will really give a shit about any of your problems."
And as I frequently responded, "That doesn't mean that I can't be unhappy about them right this minute."