Life Remembered in Phases

We sometimes get to a point in life when everything seems to slow us down. The in-between moments stand out more. I find myself trying to reconnect with a part of me that best fits the part of me that I am now, probably someone new or the me I haven’t seen in a while. Feelings of comfort, like the way that one sweater always makes you feel , the one that you go to your closet for, because you know it’s your favorite. The one you reach for without thinking, because you know exactly how it feels. The sweater that’s kept you warm, and has caught your tears when they’ve fallen, and it always wrapped you in comfort , so familiar you’d never replace it.

That’s the side of me Im looking for now—the one who doesn’t bother explaining herself to anyone who doesn’t get it. Because sometimes, truthfully, I don’t even get myself.

I’m not sure if this shift happened after my father passed, but these days, all I want is simplicity. No debates, no justifying, just quiet understanding.

I realized a while back that I don’t want to measure life in numbers. Numbers feel heavy, final, and they never really hold certainty.

I prefer to see life in phases. Phases permit you to honor what you’ve lived without the pressure of counting years or worrying how old you’re getting.

I’ve entered the phase where kids are out of the house. Before, there was always something urgent to fill the hours. Now, there’s space. The importance of finding the many self, and new phases.

The Caregivng Phase

The phase before this one was caring for elderly parents. The last five years of my father’s life were filled with doctor appointments and worry. It was a time of heartache, watching the structure that helped me rise begin to fall.

The Full, Busy House Phase

But before that? Oh, that was a good phase. Four kids, answered prayers, I was present at all graduations, theirweddings, and three grandchildren. For a short while, everyone was under one roof—even a daughter-in-law and my first granddaughter.

I remember the joy I would have spending endless hours photographing her, all in pink, I couldn’t get enough of my little timepiece. After four boys. Who could blame me? That phase was loud, busy, and Beautiful!

The Raising Kids While Surviving Illness Phase

Even earlier was the phase of raising my kids while surviving my illness. Those were some of the busiest years—and honestly, The Best!

That illness changed everything. It forced me to stop thinking in numbered years, and start living in phases. Because years never felt certain. Phases felt real.

The Pre-Kids, Building Life Phase

Before kids, there was the phase of building a life: owning my own home, working as a hairdresser, and growing a clientele. The 80’s were Awesome! They were fun! Always lively ,discos, friendships were made, and some lasted through the years. That phase …Unforgettable!

I wouldn’t have the strength for that now, but what a phase!

The beginning of adulthood Phase

If I go back even further, there was the time right after high school. That phase feels strangely close to how I feel now.

After graduation, I spent a summer in Italy. When I came home, my friends all had steady boyfriends. I had time on my hands. A few college classes. Took a few months to enjoy life..

But in those months, I found something important: the ability to be alone.

I got a cat named “Squiggy”, who lived for twenty years! I’d take him in my car for scenic drives, even though he hated the car! I loved my “just me & Squiggy” time, driving down Jefferson, looking at the lake. During that phase, I found my way to being by myself…at least for a short while.

Coming Back to Myself

Now, decades later, I’m here with my new cat, “Song.” And I think I remember that girl. In the beginning of the adulthood phase, the one who wasn’t rushing anywhere. The one who found quiet ways to feel whole.

From here on out phase

Maybe this phase can be like that one.

Maybe this time, it can last for as long as God holds me.

Maybe that’s where I Am, and exactly what I want!