Nomad?

Ok, so I'm thinking of taking up a nomadic life. Sort of. I was thinking this evening, feeling in a vaguely 'up' mood, that I'd like to do some of those 20-something things that I missed out on. You know, road trips I didn't do at university and so forth. I realized (or maybe that's not the right word) that I've lived for others a long time. I don't have to do that, there's no reason to take upon myself the estate's debt and keep this house. I should experience something like living. Mother would have wanted that. Hell, it took me time to get her to accept she was in that position herself: she didn't have to answer to others, she could travel. Sadly, that realization came to late for her to embrace and enjoy it fully.

The easy thing is for me to stay here, take root, meet no one, life a monastic life fitting my quickly balding head and just be the rock stable thing that doesn't change with time. Some would say I "gave up" a lot of my "best years" for family, for duty. That seems ridiculous to me but that's because I haven't entirely embraced the passages of time and that I'm not getting younger. Mother used to say, "You were born old." And on a lot of levels that's true.

I "deserve" a mid-life crisis moment of youthful indiscretion. Or something that is my equivalent.

A lot of my depressive moods and self-flagilation (not literally, sorry duckie!) has been focuses on feeling 'useless' and 'of no use to anybody'. Well, is it any wonder? There's no one left. Whether I did the best, most perfect job or not, my task of parental caregiving is over (or close to it). If not now than once the estate closes. Maybe that's one reason I'm not in a rush and happily working on the house, meeting the estate's obligations and so forth. It's a bit of a continuation of taking care of Mother.

Still, I wish the Mother was here.