All I Have Is Now

So much has transpired in the past month. Holidays, birthdays, healing days from surgery –and a fresh new year. Unexpectedly, somewhere in the mix another tiny, senior housing unit became available. Square footage even less than the one I’d missed out on before, I moved quickly to make sure my application might possibly be first in line.

As things began to percolate nicely, my stomach started to churn. What if I actually got it? Besides there being only one closet, no washer/dryer hook up, and minimal space for anything other than the very basics, the narrow balcony off the bedroom was situated only a few feet above a walkway. I would be looking directly down at the front porch of one of the units on the next level situated a few feet below. There would be no privacy afforded to either of us, not to mention other passersby.

Waking in the middle of the night, I no longer fell quickly back to sleep. Like a stalking predator my mind lay in wait, ready to pounce upon my most vulnerable emotions. How in the world was I going to pull this off? Not only would I need to slash my belongings roughly in half, then there was the garage. Even if I squandered my limited income on a small storage unit, the task of going through everything and eliminating most of what was there would be daunting. In a word, I was quickly becoming overwhelmed. I knew I couldn’t do it alone but felt the responsibility resting squarely on my ill-equipped shoulders: I was barely seven weeks out of surgery.

As it turns out, besides unavoidable delays (my landlord could not be reached for a referral because he was on a cruise in Antarctica, and for some reason my bank was inordinately slow in confirming my financial status), I do not qualify for the unit. Because I have been supplementing my social security with draws from my IRA in order to pay my current rent, my income level is over the maximum amount acceptable. What originally was considered an asset, not income, became income when I used it. Caught between a rock and a hard place, it seems that I must not exceed my social security income in order to qualify for affordable, senior housing. Meanwhile, I cannot pay my current rent without using additional funds from my IRA. Checkmate!

It’s been a rollercoaster. The upside is what has always been true in my life –the indisputable abundance of reasons for me to be thankful. First and foremost, there’s my home team of family and friends encouraging and supporting me every step of the way. Some offering meaningful suggestions for survival while others giving personal references in lieu of my landlord’s absence. Then, when the walls came tumbling down, they listened. As I sought to make sense out of it all, eventually and not unhappily I came to realize that all I have is now –and that is enough. It’s always been enough, so I have no regrets and nothing to fear.

P.S. It’s not checkmate. It’s a reprieve.