Thursday, September 16, 2004
A Year Later
Today marks one full year that I’ve lived in Texas. Last year, on September 9th, I put almost everything I owned in storage, packed up a rental car with clothes, books, computer and my pets and headed out across this great country to take a second chance.
I had a great time driving across this country and meeting some fellow bloggers who would be taking over the care of all of my pets except one. I have adopted out my dog, my rats and one of my cats will be staying with a blogger although he is taking care of another one in addition to that one. I will eventually get one more back; the black cat with blue/green eyes and the most amazing character and humor all bundled up into one tiny, furry package. Today is that cat’s birthday as well. It really is his official birthday, not a guess. I met this cat 10 years ago when my apartment neighbor’s cat had kittens. Xaxu, (pronounced Shaw-Shoe..which is an Ethiopian dialect meaning ‘panther’), was the most energetic cat and he had this big ol’ forehead which he eventually grew in to. He had Freddy Krueger claws and refused to sleep in his box that I put next to the bed.
I’m digressing. But it does illustrate just a smidgen the hardest part for me about moving to Texas. I miss the hell out of those animals. I miss them every, single day and sometimes it just kills me not having them around. I know my dog and the rats and the cat that will stay with another friend all have it really good. They are each in homes that are so suitable for them and that, really, is the only thing that keeps my heart from shattering into tiny pieces. It’s the only thing that keeps me from second guessing myself. However, it doesn’t make me miss them any less. I’m hoping to get Xaxu back soon one day because every time I think of him, I feel like someone slugged me in the gut with a sledge hammer.
Anyway, I moved down to Houston to stay with my brother and the plan was that I would find a job, work hard and not pay any bills and just save every penny I earned sans my storage bill. At the end of the year, I was supposed to have this chunk of change in my savings and go from there. Get back into the game so to speak.
That didn’t go according to plan. It took me a long time to even find a job and when I did, it wasn’t exactly the best paying job in the world but, I had a job, I was saving money and things were going to be okay. I wasn’t going to have as much as I hoped but I was going to have a fair amount.
And then I broke my ankle on February 29th and was laid up for 3 months after getting a metal plate and pins put in. It wasn’t really the medical bills that sucked as I only had the civilian E/R to pay off...although that was one hell of a bite out of my savings, because after that, I remembered I’m a vet and got my surgery and care done at the VA hospital. (Thank G-d for the VA!) It was the fact that I could not work for three months and even when I did get back to work, I could only work part time.
As the end of the year approached, I really didn’t know what I was going to do. I had tentative plans with a friend but his life was getting complicated with his family moving so our plans got put on the back burner. No grudges, no hard feelings. Sometimes that just happens. I also talked to some other people about different plans, pulling strings as they say, but again, I really wondered if I was going to have enough to do them.
The next thing I know, I’m being invited to live here with the same ideas. Find a job, work really hard and save up all my money so that when I left, I would have a nice fat wallet. The difference this time around is that I have not been given a time limit. When I first moved here I was under the impression that it was going to be just for a couple of weeks or maybe like two months or so and while I was very greatful, that did give me some stress. “I have to succeed in two months.”
Then one day, I was told, “Take whatever time you need. The door is open.”
I can’t possibly begin to explain to you the enormous relief that washed over me right at that second. I will not bore you all with the plethora of reasons for that relief but I will say the biggest one was knowing that I would not find myself in a particular situation ever again and that right there has been my biggest concern ever since I went through it 12 years ago.
So here I am, one year later, still in Texas but a totally different city, totally different household, completely different environment than I’ve ever lived in and not being rushed or pushed or prodded or questioned or harrassed. Given a third chance. Take my time. I have no idea what I did to deserve this but I sure as hell am very thankful.
It will be interesting to see where I am next September 16th.
