We made and received about a dozen phone calls yesterday from the title company, the realtor and Bill the Notary about the mortgage of the house we are still buying. It all started like this: We signed for a house on Monday, the same day our mortgage company was bought out by someone else, so they could not do our loan after all. (Also, lots of the nice people are out of jobs.) After some back and forth, another company was found who would give us the same deal, but we had to re-sign all the papers, so at 8 pm last night Bill The Notary came to my mom and stepdad's house to help us with that. After 45 minutes on the phone with the realtor about an extra $721.45 which had appeared on the new documents, then another 10 to clear up whether our new address ends in STREET or AVENUE since the papers say both in different places, we were finally done. Today, our only mortgage task is to wire some money somehow from our bank in Seattle to the title company in Portland. Which will have to wait a couple of hours since we are still in Minnesota, in central time.
Even though my body is on Pacific Time still, I was awake this morning at 6 am. Instead of going to back to sleep (tempting) I went for a long walk along Skyline Drive, saw the sun rise and a white tailed deer and gazillions of birds including one round bright blue one I couldnt recognize and a pair of goldfinches. Then my family was still dozing, so I got in the car and drove to the co-op where I used to work, back when I thought I was going to be in the natural foods industry forever. They've moved to a new space now, and I didn't recognize anyone until I bumped into Jim (have I told you about Jim? the conspiracy theorist who made a replica of the grassy knoll out of legos? yeah, he's that cool.). I re-introduced myself - I've been gone for ten years, after all, and I've been living high on the hog since then so I'm definately rounder than I used to be be in my lean co-op girl days. Also grayer and wrinklier. But he remembered me, and said he always thinks about those days when we used to goof around with Rebecca in the back room of the store as really good times. I agreed.
I feel so different now, not just in the rounder and grayer category, but also I seem to have turned into the kind of person who talks about her mortgage on a cell phone while at the beach with her son. Mostly, I like who've I'm turning into - I'm a lot calmer for one thing, and a lot kinder to other people and myself. And it seems like, at almost 40, it's appropriate and even joyful to have more responsibilities now that I did then.
But. Still. And. However.
I keep starting sentences, but I cant think how to end this, something regretfully nostalgic doesn't seem quite right, and neither does a repudiation of my former life in favor of the way things are now. I'm looking back, I'm looking ahead, I'm trying to stay in the present somehow too, and I'm trying to love what there is to love about all of it. Maybe that's all we're supposed to do anyway.