What ifs

The thing about my Mum's death is that it has affected me in areas that I didn't think it would. I now am scared about death. Not about the actual process but about not doing all that I want to do in the life that I have left. I feel that I have wasted years and years of my precious life and now I have to make "it" (ie:life) work. So, I have four jobs. Yep, you read that correctly-four jobs. And I don't really like any of them. And that doesn't include my craft creations that I sell or the party-plan- greeting-card-thingy I am looking into. I work not because I feel that I want to fit so much work in my life before I die (God Forbid!) or because any of it is fulfilling (hello - we're talking major boring here) but because there is so much I want to do before I leave this bodily plane and it all costs money.

And we are not struggling. If I wanted to I could stop work tommorow and Big M and I could comfortably live on his wage. But I want so much - and it's not so much the material things. I don't care if we never own a house. Or if we never have a new car (in fact I love Big M's old Holden so much we spend a fortune on it). Or if I never, ever dress in fashion (which I don't).

But what if I never get to visit New York again?
What if I never see the sun setting over a tropical beach?
What if I never experience a gondola ride in Venice? a gelato in Naples? window shopping in Milan?
What if I never drink cafe a lait while watching life stroll by in Paris?
What if I never snuggle with my Big M in near 24 hour darkness in Sacndinavia?

But what if I did give up work? What if money wasn't an issue? What would be my what ifs be then?

What if I never write a novel? Or complete a short story even? (A good one, I mean - that people will want to read)
What if I never make a quilt? Go in a Hot Air Balloon? Learn Yoga?
What if I never, ever get my eating under control? What if I never, ever get fit?

What if I don't find pure joy in my life?
What if I am always pining for my Mum?
What if I can't make my marraige work?
What if I never have children?

What if I never, ever have another what if again?

What if, I just shut up.

And so you're back...

I haven't known what to write for awhile. The thing about blogging is you don't know if anyone is actually reading you and if they are, do you really want to burden them with all your fears, desires, dreams and ideas. So, I continued to daily visit the sites that I love and sometimes I come back to this site. And I sit. And I stare. And I have no idea how to put all that I feel into a paragraph. And so then, I turn off the computer. And go and watch some telly.