Tuesday, January 08, 2019

Another year beginning, with changes galore for me coming up.  The picture was taken by the waitress at the WACO,  where I was surprised by a birthday breakfast on the 4th.  Years ago I would have been mortified, but this new group of friends has changed me.  To say I was delighted would be an exaggeration, but I was pleased and happy to be acknowledged by these recent additions to my life.  They are wonderful, and I am made new by them.

The next change will be my place of residence.  This time, unless something changes drastically in the next few weeks, I am really going to move.  Thanks to my new caseworker from DHCS, I have been approved to move into a senior (!) facility across town.  It's the same one I thought I was going to go to before, but found was too small.  This social worker, Amanda, has talked the necessary authorities into giving me a bigger, 2-bedroom apartment with special dispensation to have dogs, cat, and birds along with me.  This comes just as leaks have appeared in almost every ceiling in this house.  My chickens will be living down the street with Jim.

This will be a huge move for me since I have become so attached to this house and my life in it.  Until now I haven't been able to detach myself from it, and there is still time.  However, my rental assistance is sure to stop once the various leaks are discovered.  That gives me extra incentive because I don't want to argue with Sue about it.  I know she will resist or refuse to make the necessary changes.  I will never think ill of her because she has given me this life I've led here.  For all intents and purposes it has been MY house.  I've been able to indulge my every whim without complaint from her.  She hasn't raised my rent since 1998.   I will be sad to leave..very sad.  But I have to face the fact that I am old.  It will be good to not worry about shoveling snow, mowing the lawn, checking the furnace.  I will have no heating bills, no trash pick up or water bills or electric bills.  I will be warm.  For all intents and purposes, I will not live the life of a poor person.  Will I know how to do it?  I've been poor since my husband moved out of our family house in Bangor. I grew up poor, had a few years of somewhat comfortable financial means when I married and worked as a social worker.  Then I was a single mother, a student, an artist.  Scrimping and making do have been my life.  Never have I regretted not having money.  I have seen it as an evil influence on the human psyche.  I wear my poverty like a badge, obnoxiously and with pride.  I suppose I will still be poor, but creature comforts will be the "givens" in my life.  How will I handle it?

Well, that remains to be seen.