Vickie has been living in Lakeland for almost two weeks now. She has to move in with her 82 year old mom. She transferred with Walmart. That went more easily than it at first appeared it was going to be. So far, it’s going pretty good for her there. I’m glad for that.

I was upstairs when Rose called me from downstairs to tell me Vickie was here. The signs that she’s moving out were obvious. Bo Bo’s crate/bed is gone. So are Vickie’s pictures, photos and awards from Walmart.

Next trip she’s going to take her pots and pans. Whaaaa! We love them. Chefs would love them. They cook beautifully and are extremely easy to clean. Oh well, ideas for my future.

I miss having her around. I miss Bo. When she told me she was going to have to move out, I wasn’t surprised. She was having to go to Lakeland a lot on her days off to take care of her mom; she has her two sisters she splits responsibilities with. I was sad, and not just cause our bill amounts will increase—Rose is still here, so it’s still a two-split.

I’m not letting that scare me. I am so damned sick of being stressed about money shortages, I’m just not going to be afraid. It seems that the less I stress about money, the luckier I get with it. I’m trying to look at it as the dynamics and energy is changing—improving, because I’m making changes. When space becomes greater, when Vickie is almost out, things are getting moved to the curb, or taken away by junk haulers, if they are affordable. The couch is going. I’ve been wanting to get rid of it for a couple of years. The coffee table is going. I’m going to increase the number of things I donate. Stuff I’ve been hanging onto in the stubborn hope that my life was imminently about to improve, is going. The thing holding me back has been my own fear and underlying belief that I don’t deserve better.

I do deserve better. And better is coming. And, I’m going to pack up things I do want to keep that are important to me. This category includes a lot of momentos like yearbooks and stuff.

I do still worry about Vickie, though. Taking care of ailing parents is difficult, and can be a quick route to burnout. I went through this in my 20’s. Yes, my 20’s, when I was still working on my BA at University of South Florida, and worked multiple jobs. It sucked then. Vickie is in her 60’s. It’s going to be harder for her.

I’m going to try to maintain an attitude that things are about to drastically improve. And, of course, I’m constantly grateful for all the good things I have in my life and that things are not worse