Last night my older daughter, Megan, and I had a nice chat while she was preparing me for bed. Megan currently works three jobs to pay as much early principal on her new house loan as possible. The only time we get to talk is when she is taking care of me because she does not have any days off (that is also why I have been packing her belongings still left at my house).
I thought I have been doing a good job on paying my mortgage principal down. I have never, not even year one, paid more interest than principal on the mortgage on this house. It was probably only $100 or less on year one, but I still paid more principal than interest. Megan makes my efforts look juvenile. I do not know what her number will be, but she is making double payments with the second payment going directly to principal. I only paid $200 dollars a month extra on my payments.
When Megan told me the exact amount of her payments last night, I noticed it was $3.20 short of an even 100 number and asked her why she did not round up. She gave me that “Really, Mom?” look and told me to quit harassing her about three dollars and 20 cents.
I know Megan would need to change her payment amount every year as her escrow payments fluctuate to keep an even $100 number. I changed my extra payment for the first five or six years of my mortgage to keep my extra at $200 per month. Now it is about $170 per month extra principal because I quit changing the amount each year and my taxes and insurance keep going up.
Megan told me that she had told the general manager at her other full-time job about my ongoing cancer and shorter expected life span that day. He asked her how we were dealing with it and she said I am dealing with my emotions this time. I asked Megan what that meant. I dealt with my first rounds of treatment very well as far as I am concerned. She told me I did not deal with my emotions, I ignored them.
Megan thinks my writing every day is a healthy way for me to deal with my emotions. She is probably right, even though that is not why I am writing. I am writing so my children can get in my head a little when I am gone and possibly realize I am not complicated enough to need to deal with emotions. My first rounds of chemotherapy involved happy denial as my only emotion. Cancer was something to get through and move on. That is what I did.
When that illusion was shattered and my new reality was forced upon me, happy denial is still my favorite emotion. Angry Susanne takes center stage occasionally and I have successfully fended off the weeping woman for now. Megan has told me I should let the weeping woman out, but I am not ready for that. I am not ready to be vulnerable. (That is kind of funny coming from a 108-pound quadriplegic in a wheelchair.)
The weeping woman will get her day, but it is not today. I think as long as I am feeling good and feel my quality of life is good, happy denial will reign with the occasional outbursts from Angry Susanne. Once my health starts to deteriorate the weeping woman will likely come out as I need to admit the truth to myself.
My piece of advice to you is to acknowledge your feelings or lack thereof. I do not feel like I need a good cry right now because I am not sad. Crying is not the only way to express your emotions. I guess that is why Megan is glad I am writing. I may not think I am dealing with my emotions when I write, but that does not mean it is not happening.
Until next time,
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