2011. I had been calling it The Year of the Great Purge.

Cleaning out closets, burning old bank statements, getting rid of the junk, hauling it to the dump. I thought that if I cleaned out the house, made some room for me, that I would like things better. Then it began to dawn on me. The new name I've given the year 2011.

The Year That I Can No Longer Stand a Person I Love. Because as I cleaned out, as I purged, there was something remaining that I could not send to the curb to be picked up by the trash man. And nothing breeds resentment more than looking at the pile of junk that doesn't go away, that no one will clean up, that only is piled upon further, hoping that the next one to come along will haul it off and make everything better. The pile of unresolved hurts, the battered dreams, the lies, and the denial, oh, the denial. Never has a word had so profound a meaning for me, more than lies - utter and absolute intentional blindness. What pile of crap???? Where????

So this is the year.

Mid-life crisis?

A first blog, based on a whim, while the laundry whirs and precious time passes. Perhaps it's the later forties that bring this out in me . . . the hurry up sensation, the realization that the days truly may be numbered and there is still so much that I have not done, yea, will not ever do.

Panic? No, too tired for that. In fact, my reaction now to this new neighbor I live with is to do less, to mark fewer things off the list, because now I'm just too tired, broke, or scared to do them anyway anymore. But blogs are free, and no one has to know, so here I go. Too bad this wasn't on my list of things to do.

Our family is preparing for a big change. My daughter just graduated and is leaving for college in a matter of weeks. Weeks from now, our family dynamic will be more drastically altered than it has been in 12 years, since my son was born. And I will be left to eek out a happy life with my son and husband, and my newest companion, Worry. Worry will be with me when all else is not. In fact, in solitude, as these two men in my life really do not share much in common with me, Worry will be there to make sure I am never truly alone again. It will get a front and center seat on my life stage. For years it was pushed aside, took a seat at the back of the auditorium on most days, as my children did not present me with unnecessary risks, rebellion, and childhood disease. Since I often wished that my husband would leave me, would take a mistress, or worse, Worry was not there for his welfare either.

But now we are being reintroduced. As I leave to attend my daughter's college orientation, I hope that I will be provided the tools to reassign this companion to the back of the auditorium again. Though I know this is wishful thinking, and the power of Worry is stronger than the persuasion of an academic speaker.