Just recently, I’ve had my dose of “reality bites”. I got a call from Mom telling me to ask Yaya to clean out her stuff at Mom’s place. (Yaya’s actually my sister’s yaya from way back and is practically family. She’s in charge of P and K now, and it really makes me more comfy that way. I’d be too afraid to leave the kids with someone who I just got from an agency…)
Since she’s been with us, she’s accumulated things—bought by herself, given by mom, etc. On that day I got the call, Mom wanted her to go over one of these days to clean up the storage area below the stairs which is practically Yaya’s storage.
At that point, I wished I had my own house to let Yaya put all her things in. The thing is, I don’t. I hardly have space for things of my own (which is why I have, in addition to spring cleaning, “summer cleaning”, “holy week cleaning”, and all these other “holiday cleanings” so I can just get rid of things that I don’t actually need).
I felt really sad because I realized that at some point or another, Yaya will retire also…(or maybe not, and just hang out with me) She bought a piece of land in her province and will be going home this May to check it out. (I hope to gosh it’s legit!)
The thought that she is family yet not really tugs at my heart. Thinking about it makes me cry. How can someone like family not be…maybe because she’s not.
Well, I guess moving on is really hard. Always is. I remember when my best friend Shel and her family moved to Canada. Same thing.
I’m rambling. I’d better stop. I don’t want to get all teary-eyed.
PS- In the end, Mom decided to let Yaya keep her stuff in the house, but for her to just do some cleaning up. Made me happier.