I often think that I assumed life would get easier as I got older.
I've lived with MS for many, many years, and prior to that, when I was in the military, it was simply called a chronic undiagnosed neurological illness.
Despite living with neurological illness, not named or named, I believed that every little path in my journey would get me somewhere that life might just be a tad bit easier.
I am not sure what would make it easier, except maybe I'd happily settle for a Handy Andy housemate, because I have plenty of unfinished projects and I've taken apart one large and three small appliances.
Less home maintenance means more time for quilting, reading, and relaxing.
That sounds like an easier life.
Perhaps I just need to get a few books on appliance repair, and convince my brother to give me back all the power tools he thinks I'll hurt myself with.
I still have plenty of limitations from MS (if you count forced removal of circular saws and various power tools), but I'm no longer a single mom of two children under 5 years old. Back then, I thought that raising kids on my own had to be the hardest thing in the world.
Now I am still a single mom, but with a half-empty nest. My son is heading towards 17 years old and thinking of college out of state, and my daughter is already out on her own.
I now think the hardest thing in the world might be raising up babies, helping them get an education, and then letting go when it is time for them to tackle the world.
After all those years, I suddenly have (fairly) unlimited options. Maybe that's what the hardest thing really is: deciding on new adventures, all on my own.
Life with MS isn't a fairy tale by any means, but it isn't simply a valley of tears either. It never contained a typical happily ever after, but I've certainly had rewarding challenges and accomplishments along the way.
Now when I sit and keep trying to decide on a plan for where to end up, I still think it'll have a tiny house and a very large shop (sans power tools if my brother has any say in the matter) and more apt to be a quilting studio and a really spectacular view of the water.
It is nice to have a direction but it is a lot of work getting my house ready to sell and think of what to do next. I suppose I have another two years to hash out all the details (and find myself a longarm quilting machine) before I reach my tiny house-happily ever after plan.
**I have absolutely NO CLUE why my formatting is wonky the last few days and throughout this post. Maybe I ought to stop dreaming of a small house in the woods and start thinking about how to do the things I'm doing with a bit more skill :) Nah.