Origin of idioms interest me, especially these two: the shoe’s on the other foot and the tides have turned. While similar in meaning, the first has a decidedly negative connotation, while the second could go either way. I vacillate between which space I am in, given the day.
As you know, I am preparing my home for sale. I’m in the middle of a process fraught with expense, unpleasant surprises, setbacks, emotional upheaval and never-ending decisions. In addition to the oil tank (a gift that keeps on giving), the asbestos tile, the cracked plaster ceilings and the monstrous amount of STUFF I must divest from, there is the issue of the youngest (adult) child’s living situation, or soon to be lack thereof. ‘Shoe’s on the other foot’ lies squarely with this one.
Shoe’s on the other foot
Aforementioned child has made no effort to become employed so has no choice but to seek shelter with his other parent. Interesting, as this is the one child that was most often irritated to explosion by said parent. Yet, here we are. Weeks went by without word on whether or not this move was confirmed – so I’ve been having severe anxiety just around that one issue – until yesterday. I asked point-blank: “Your dad understands that you are moving in with him, correct?”
“Yes, of course he does,” was the reply. “I feel kinda bad about it, but he is really excited.”
“Excited?” I asked, incredulous. I cannot imagine a more volatile pairing than those two. What will happen when the child is yelling into his gaming headphones at 3 am in a very small house rather than two floors below his sleeping parent? I shake my head. Has he forgotten the screaming matches they had at the dinner table for the better part of a decade?
Maybe this is more like ‘the tides have turned’? Perhaps this will provide the prodding to get the job to earn the money to get his own place. And maybe I should have asked why the child feels bad about inserting himself into his other parent’s life. I didn’t. He clearly doesn’t feel bad about being a non-contributing member of my household. No, this is definitely ‘shoe’s on the other foot.’
I seem bitter as I read over my words. I’m more anxious, and curious, with maybe a tinge of bitterness, at this development.
Other nonsense
Real bitterness emerged when preparing to sell all the audio equipment my former spouse accumulated over 20-odd years. The sheer magnitude of the “collection” was mind-boggling. Every tone arm, every turntable, every reel-to-reel tape deck, every box of tubes and cables was a reminder of where the family savings went. We were pulling boxes with things like brand new surround sound systems out from behind other boxes, under the stairwell, at the tippy top of a storage rack. Boxes of vinyl albums, tucked far under the workbench. Boxes and boxes of stuff I had never seen before (or chose not to see.) All left behind, all for me to deal with, my children’s financial futures represented in things that have limited value.
The resurgence of anger this exercise brought to the surface shocked me. I thought I had gotten past it. Guess not.
I had a reseller come and buy half of it. I presume he took all of the really good stuff, leaving me with the dregs. He asked me why my ex didn’t take the collection with him as it was clear that he had a passion for it. That is a very, very good question. It’s been here for three years, waiting for the guy to take some of it. If I didn’t decide to sell my house, I’d wager it would have stayed here forever, under the guise of “one of the kids will want it.”
I need to let that bitterness go. It’s hard to do. I’m hopeful that when all the junk is gone and the house is sold, I can release all these feelings along with the stuff and the mortgage.
Did I mention
Life is complicated enough without making it more so but I have managed to infuse more complexity (read: anxiety) into the situation. When I started all of this nonsense with the house, I did not factor in the work trip immediately followed by the planned vacation to France.
It’s a bit of a quagmire, really. The oil tank business is still not complete and won’t be until well into May. Plastering and painting must also wait until the house is empty. That isn’t happening until May as well.
My new address requires adjustment for me and my things. This, too, is slow going.
Economic volatility revs up the angst associated with the snail’s pace that it’s all moving at. I pray every day that the market holds at least until this place sells. Pray with me, will you?
And, yes, I know, these are all problems of privilege. I am grateful, always, for that.
Oh, and call your Senator and Congressional leaders. About all the things. I know it’s a lot, but pick anything and bug them.
Deep breaths, friends, deep breaths.
How did I miss this one. I have said it before and I’ll say it again, you are a talented writer. Thanks for sharing this great story. I can feel your pain (read:anxiety :)). You got this girl. Congratulations on this life change. You deserve it. Oh – and thanks for the story!!