Trepidation

I am sitting in the glider in my little room at my daughter’s farm willing the migraine, which gnaws at the corners of my vision, to go away. The exhaustion of moving has finally ebbed away. The car is mostly empty, though not yet vacuumed, and I have not yet replaced the back seats. It is time to send in the request to withdraw my funds from my retirement funds, so that they will be available for the closing in just over two weeks.
This fills me with fear. Financial decisions, big ones, are always accompanied by dread.

Fortunately I no longer live in fear of my monthly bills. For years I would sit at my kitchen table surrounded by paperwork, shuffling and reshuffling bills into three piles: must be paid in full; must make a partial payment and; can be put off. On those days, if my husband came in from the barn and saw me at the table, he would immediately find something pressing to do outside (coward). When we finally reached the place where we could pay our bills in full every month, the relief was tinged with a new fear – ‘Certainly I must have made a mistake, one of these checks would bounce and then we’d be in trouble again’.
For several years now I have had my bills paid directly out of a separate account with a reliable funding source. I don’t have to worry about deadlines or late fees. My weekly income has been enough that I can buy groceries or gas without counting pennies and days to payday. The relief is tangible. So the fear of this move to a new place of my own is a fear of bills. Though there will be no mortgage, I will now be responsible for the utilities all on my own. The drive to work will be longer, and I will have to drive, so the car must work. Repairs to the place will be my responsibility, not the landlords.
Aside from that I am mostly excited about my move to the new place. That it happens in the dead of winter brings concerns about heating, but gives me time to envision where things will be planted. I imagine I will spend long hours figuring out which repairs/remodels will come first and which, though pleasant, can be left for later.
I have skills to learn and relearn. The snowblower, if I need it, is one I have never used, nor have I ever used a snowblower at all. I can ease into relearning how to use a woodstove since I have a backup furnace. I have been paring bills back to a bare minimum and planning out what I will do without.
When all is settled in, unpacked and placed, I will stare out my picture window and plan my garden. I already know where the tub of geraniums will go.