mama said there’d be

Back when my mother was living in a lovely little cottage, senior housing in the town of Harwichport, Massachusetts on Cape Cod, she told me once that there were months when she had to choose between heat and food. A life on Social Security. I should have slammed my whole being’s brakes on then and there and done everything I could to help make that reality go away. I’m sure I was helpful, supportive, caring and loving, and I’m sure I could have been much more of all those personal behaviors and choices.

At 75 plus, I am growing weary of paid employment. Stuff hurts and aches, and my soul yearns for the boundless space to keep on keepin’ on with forever-Buddy goofiness and the deep caring for the planet. With every smidge of creativity waiting release. Yet, my rent is more than my life on Social Security alone. One reason why I’ve been trying to hawk my books and paintings as much as I have. One of the reasons I continue paid employment here in my aging shell. Along with getting to be useful.

I don’t believe it will come to a choice between heat and food. I don’t eat much food as it is. However it falls out, though, changes are coming.

I wish my mom was around to talk about it.