Of Training Wheels and Christmas Lights

As WordPress continues to recycle old prompts, I pulled another prompt from The Coffee Monsterz Co to respond to today

The New Inheritance

We go back a few years to when my old man passed. After he died, I wrote a post called When I Grow Up where I first explored the idea of what it means to eventually inherit the Earth from our parents. It was a reflection on the cycle of life—the transition from being the child looking up to being the adult holding the keys.

My mother hasn’t passed away, but we’ve come to a sobering realization over the last few months. My siblings Phred, Guillaume, and I realized that her funds are running low. We had set up her assisted living situation under the guise that she would have enough to cover it for as long as she needed. What we didn’t count on—and I know this sounds incredibly blunt—is her surviving as long as she has.

So, while she is still very much with us, the three of us are now determining how to divvy up her care expenses. I had been dreading this for days, especially leading up to our “powwow” at Guillaume’s house on Wednesday night.

But driving home afterward, I felt something unexpected: Bold. The kid gloves and the training wheels are off. I’ve been laying low for the last few years, trying to recoup and rebuild my life following the end of my relationship with X2. It’s time for me to fly again. Essentially, Phred and I are looking at what we need to do to cover Mom’s expenses and keep her house—the home I grew up in—without refinancing. I know I can take on my share of the household bills.

Meanwhile: The Long Way Home

Have you ever noticed how endings feel so much more abrupt than beginnings do?

When you’re on a road trip, the drive to the destination always seems to take longer than the trip back home. I’ve noticed that countless times over the years. I brought this up today because on Thursday afternoon, I finally took down my outdoor Christmas lights. The weather was near 50 degrees, the sun was shining, and the ground was relatively dry, so I wasn’t traipsing through the mud.

It took me weeks to gradually put those lights up, adding a few extra strands as I went. Yet, I had them completely taken down and, for the most part, put away in less than two hours.

There is a sense of anticipation in the beginning—the excitement of the open road or the creative spark of decorating. But the end comes quickly. Maybe it’s because we don’t want the trip or the holidays to end, but when it’s done, it’s done.

Guarding the Runway

There is a truly brilliant line by Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame that hits home:

“Part of the journey is the end.”

I might be looking too much into taking down Christmas lights, but as much as I think about “new beginnings” and the future, I also think about things coming to an end.

I know I’m bound for some serious transitions in the days ahead. Out of economic necessity, Fred and I are taking over the household expenses so that Mother’s money can go exclusively toward her healthcare. I’m okay with that. I’m ready to take on more responsibility again at this point in my life.

I’ve been riding with training wheels and kid gloves for far too long. It’s time to fly again—even if the runway is the same one I grew up on.

Thanks for stopping by Rebuilding Rob. Be sure to like 👍, comment, and subscribe below. It’s greatly appreciated! Also, feel free to follow me on social media and check out my recent posts!

AI art created with Google Gemini

The title “Of Training Wheels and Christmas Lights” first appeared on Rebuilding Rob.

Designed with WordPress