The last week or two has been difficult. I hadn’t realized how low I had spiralled until, during a phone conversation, a friend asked me what had brought me joy in the past week. As much as I wanted to find something to tell her, I couldn’t. Not a single joyful thought could be found. Loneliness overshadowed everything else.
I’d experienced other times like this during my grief journey, but nothing that had lasted this long. Even though I’d been out and around other people several times, I felt like I was on the outside looking in and not an active participant . All I wanted to do was go back home and hide myself away. Something had to change before depression got a firm hold on me.
A wise woman once said she had observed me make myself invisible when I was out of my comfort zone. The realization that I was again doing that very thing helped to explain why the loneliness was intensified when I was out. It’s hard to interact with someone who has faded so far into the background she can’t be seen.
I have always been on the quiet side until you get to know me. Then, look out as my true personality emerges! When I had a partner to share my thoughts, dreams and everyday life with, this was fine. Past behaviours don’t serve me well in my solo life.
Many years ago, when Brian and I were first dating, he took me on a road trip to meet his uncle, aunt and cousins. It was late when we arrived and most of the family were asleep. The next morning I was awake, dressed and sitting on my bed, with the door open, so I’d see when Brian got up. He slept in and I had a long wait! His uncle stopped at my door and encouraged me to come downstairs with the family. His words, “Don’t be backwards about coming forwards,” are ones I have never forgotten.
Not forgotten but also not always practiced. While I learn to navigate this new journey I travel, Uncle Tom’s advice may be just what I need to help me rediscover who am I and find joy once again.
I know my life holds meaning and purpose and in order to fulfill that I can not and will not become an invisible woman. If you happen to see me performing my great disappearing act, please remind me of this.
Month: February 2025
A Taxing Situation
Today I thought I’d give you a look behind the scenes at some of my time in Mexico this winter.
Paying property taxes in a foreign country is an interesting experience. When my inadequate language skills are thrown into the mix, it becomes even more of a challenge.
For the past three or four years my apartment has been confused with the one next to me on the tax roll. Since the amount payable is based on the price paid for the property, the one that had changed ownership recently was appraised at a higher value.
Brian had disputed our bill successfully in the past. The same was true for neighbours who took care of this for us when we couldn’t be here last year. Now it was my turn to pay the property taxes.
A canopy tent was set up outside of the payment office at City Hall. Rows of chairs were under the shelter. I took my seat in the next available chair. As the people from the front row were called inside, everyone else moved up a row. After 45 minutes, it was my turn to go inside and wait my turn. I handed over my last year’s bill and it was entered into the system. The amount I was asked for was three and a half times more than was paid last year. I said, “No correcta.”
The paper was returned and I was directed to another part of the building. I waited in the wrong line before I figured out I had to bypass this one and go around the corner to another area. In about fifteen minutes I was directed to a woman who didn’t speak English or understand my meagre Spanish.
She went to another desk and returned with Felipe, who spoke to me in English. I explained my situation and he told me the rates had gone up this year and I’d have to pay the higher amount. “My neighbours in the same building didn’t have an increase,” I said. He told me that was a mistake, their file must not have been updated. I didn’t give up easily.
After more discussion, I was given two options. Either I could pay the amount due or go to the Finance Department and ask if it was possible to get a discount. I chose the second option.
Felipe kindly took me through the building, up the stairs and found the Finance Office. He then went inside with me and translated. The manager, who had the authority to grant a discount, was out of the office but due to return shortly. Did I want to wait? Yes, I did.
Because it would be difficult to converse with this person, Felipe waited outside of the office with me. After about twenty minutes he got a text saying he was needed downstairs. He told me what was happening and then went back inside to give them his cell number, saying he’d come right back if needed to translate. What incredible service!
The kindness of this young man made all the difference to my stress level. Eventually I was called back inside and asked for my paperwork. The same woman we’d spoken to previously made a phone call and took my papers into her office. A few minutes later she returned with a lower amount written in pencil on the bill. It had been reduced by 25%. After my, “Gracias, muchas gracias.” I returned to the first area to pay.
Did I still pay more than last year? Absolutely. But, I paid less than if I’d just accepted the amount asked for.
As I walked away from the building I congratulated myself for navigating a difficult situation on my own. I learned that with perseverance and the kindness of strangers, I am capable of more than I realized!
Walks, Writing, and Remembering
We loved this place. Brian and I were refreshed by the sight and sound of the sea.
In the early years we walked the beach together, stopping frequently to pick up shells that caught our attention. Very few people were encountered on our walks.
Only a handful of apartments in our building were occupied. We relished our peaceful existence, a 20 minute drive from the town where we not only did our shopping, but also found a church home.
It was on this beach, as I communed with God, that I first felt the stirrings to write. Inspiration flooded my heart and mind. Brian and I discussed these simple things that seemed to have deeper meanings. I wrote down the thoughts so I wouldn’t forget.
We often walked in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. At some point during the walk Brian would turn to me and ask, “What song is going through your mind?” There was always a praise song at that moment, sometimes even the same as the one in his mind.
In later years we walked separately. I couldn’t keep up with his long strides when he was desperate for exercise. Not wanting to hold him back, we made the decision to each go at our own pace. Brian was often gone for two hours, clocking 10-12 kms. On a good day, I did no more than half of that. Later we’d share experiences and insights from our individual walks.
These discussions often served as writing prompts. Brian was always on the lookout for story ideas to share with me. Sometimes he’d show me a picture he’d taken and say, “This would make a good story.” I’d ask how and he’d tie the pieces together. Once I said, “Maybe you should write the story.” Eyes twinkling, he smiled and said, “I think I just did!”
I’m back on our beach now. This time Brian is with me in spirit, but physically I’m on my own for the first time here. I didn’t know if I could do it but since he had made his desire for me to return very clear, I had to try.
The first week was emotional. The second week was a bit better but I wondered if this would be my last trip. I’m only a few days into my third week but something has shifted. I’ve re-entered the rhythm of life here. And what’s more, peace has filled my heart and mind.
I’ve resumed work on the book I started writing the last time Brian and I were here together. Inspiration started to flow as I took a morning walk along the beach, carrying my beloved in my heart.
Brian knew what I didn’t when he insisted I return. God has met me in this peaceful place, started healing my heart, and let me know the next chapter of my life is waiting to be written. I am grateful.