Sometimes, all you have to do is say so.

The next chapter in my life is still going to happen, but it's been delayed a bit. Though I wanted to make my change to a contingent position happen yesterday, or in this particular case, two months ago, it's now not going to happen until maybe May. I already have a replacement, but with one nurse going on medical leave and another leaving her position to go back to school (she'll need a replacement, too, and so will her replacement), the organization will be pinched for staff if we all make our moves now, so I'm going to have to wait and practice patience and tolerance.

The end of May is it for me though and I'm going to give them a date where it will be written in stone. Someone in our group is ALWAYS going to need a replacement and I want to have room for other things in my life--things I want to do and activities I actually love doing. It's time to put my foot down because I'm feeling an urgent need for change.

Birthdays and funerals do that to me, and this week, both have played a part in my life. I turned an age today I never thought I would when I was a really young girl, and yesterday, I went to the funeral of a woman who was only 62. The last time she and I spoke, she was talking excitedly about her upcoming retirement and all she would do with her free time. Time for herself. Time to pursue the leisure activities she enjoyed. Things she won't ever be able to do now.

Sue was the care coordinator for an organization that helps people with cognitive challenges live as independently as possible in real homes and in real neighborhoods. She first came into our lives about a year or so before we turned our own home into a supervised assisted living for our daughter and her roommates. Sue told me to trust her in the beginning and that she had only our best interests at heart. I placed all control into her hands (a very, very hard thing to do) and never once regretted that decision. Almost singlehandedly, this incredible woman changed our lives. As I walked into the funeral home yesterday, I was awestruck by the sheer amount of human beings congregating in one place to pay respect to a woman who very obviously knew how to take a noun like community and turn it into a verb. There were hundreds of people packed into that funeral home.

Sue's love and expertise will be sorely missed and I am saddened by her sudden death, but to me, the biggest tragedy here is that she never lived to see her personal dreams for her retirement come true. After a lifetime of giving of herself and caring for others first, she was cheated of a proper ending. What a shame.

After I left the funeral, I went into town to buy some Zauberball yarn. I'm on a mission to make a blanket that is so intriguing to me with its textures and color. As I spoke with the owner of the store, she looked up the pattern (Squares on the Roll) herself and immediately said she loved it, too, and thought this would be a great project for a weekly knit-along in the store. Where the words came from, I don't know, but in a very surreal moment, I took a step forward and told her I would love to lead this group. I heard myself saying the words that came unbidden from my lips and think my subconscious desires must have been hard at work in that very moment. I've talked about teaching knitting, but never dreamed a shop owner would jump on the offer. Well, she did, and since life is apparently short, I'm diving right into this with my heart wide open.

It's time. My time, and I'll be damned if I'll be cheated of that little bit of self actualization.

So, in June, on Tuesday evenings, I'll be leading a knit along for this project at the only yarn store in Berkley, and as soon as we've ironed out the details, I'll post the information both here and on Ravelry.

This, as I enter my 56th year, is going to be fun.