They Say You Don't Know Where You're Going

Two years ago, my father was killed in a tree falling accident. He wasn't a logger or an arborist, just a stubborn senior that insisted on doing everything himself. He loved falling trees, but even with a system designed to keep him safe, he still met his demise by way of a widow maker in November of 2018.

What does this have to do with my personal 2021 resolution list?

Well, in 2018, it wasn't clear how the next few years would pan out. My dad had bought a house with a woman whom my siblings and I found unsavory at best. We didn't use to; we used to feel bad for her as my dad rarely had a positive thing to say about her. So much so that we asked him why he even bothered to spend time with her. His response was always along the lines of,

" She's good at arguing, and I like to argue."

This may have been the case, although my sister and I saw that the main factor was his desire to not be alone. Coupled with his desire to stay out of a retirement home. Since we knew our father was no slice of pie either, neither of us thought to question him further about their strange relationship. He had made it clear that this was no romantic courtship but rather a diluted friendship in which one helped the other survive another day. She was older than him and required significantly more care than he did. He was very fit and able-bodied for his age in his late 70s'. She was virtually crippled even with her double hip replacement. Still, this seemed better to both of them than the alternative of being cared for in a home.

My father and this woman bought a house together. She paid for half with the money she inherited from her late husband and the sale of her huge house in an upscale neighbourhood, and my father mortgaged his half. About a week before his death, his mortgage was paid, and the place was paid off. With this being the case, my siblings and I felt relieved that the home wouldn't cause any complications. Boy, did we jump the gun with that assumption.

As things unfolded, we soon came to realize that this woman would become the reason for most of our heartache over the next two years. Calling her selfish and insensitive would be putting it lightly. Calling her psychotic, devious, and demented would be closer to describing her accurately. It wasn't until just before Christmas of 2020 that she allowed my brother and me to search for sentimental items in the home, many of which were missing.

She was greedy, she knew my father had money tied up in equity. He owned a corporation and several other properties. As well as plenty of boats and vehicles. She pretended to be surprised when we told her she was not in his will, even though they had an agreement to keep all of their finances separate. She challenged his will with a lawsuit, one she could never win, but it would cost us tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees to prove it. She thought this factor would deter us from fighting for our fathers' estate and settle with her, she was wrong. My father made it clear to us before he died that never wanted part of his estate to fall into her hands. He called her "a snake in the grass", so we felt it was our duty to protect all he had. He would have expected us to.

The things she put us through over the last two years offers enough content that I could write a novel; who knows, maybe I will. The point is that the previous two years of my life have been on pause being as I am the administrator of his estate. I have been living for a man who has been dead, with whom I had a very complicated relationship. Tieing up loose ends for a man that didn't care to admit he would die one day, selling his corporation while simultaneously swatting away the vultures trying to claim a piece of his estate while relying on a broken legal system in an effort to protect everything my father worked hard for, took more than everything out of me.

It demolished me.

We haven't even touched on Covid and how that affected everything. That's an entirely separate blog post.

There are still many things we need to iron out before my fathers' estate is officially closed. However, we're so close that not only can we see the light at the end of the tunnel, we can see the door and what awaits us on the other side.

So again, what does that have to do with my personal 2021's resolution list?

In short, everything. It's because of all I've been through in these two years as an administrator that I know what I want 2021 to look like.

It means that in 2021, I finally have space to properly mourn my fathers' death. I'll be able to live my life for myself again. I'll no longer have to be available to return important, time-sensitive emails to lawyers. I'll no longer have to confront a woman that has no one's interests in mind but her own, regardless of how callous they are. I'll no longer have to sit with the feeling that I am going above and beyond for a man that would have never done so for me. As I said, our relationship was complicated which contributes to what made this process so difficult.

In 2021, I can finally take the dreams I had before my dad died off the shelf and pursue what makes me happy. I'll be able to find a forever home for my family instead of continuing to rent in a cold, dark basement suite with my husband and my nine-year-old son. I'll be able to start beekeeping. I'll finally be able to start the business I've been dreaming of. I'll be able to invest money and create passive income. I'll be able to say no to things that do not bring me joy.

I suppose the benefit of having my life on hold the past two years is that I've had the time to think about how I want my life to look moving forward. I'm grateful I've spent this time thinking and planning because now that we are out of the woods, the sky is the limit.

In 2021, I can hang my hat on the fact that no matter how much the last two years tested and hurt me, it created a strength within me that is everlasting and untouchable. It gave me the courage I didn't know I had.

My resolution for this year is to return to myself so that I can practice being present in a way that isn't constrained. To unapologetically go after whatever fuels me and makes me happy. I want 2021 to be the year I fill my gut with butterflies instead of acid and stones.

If grief has taught me anything, it's that it's not linear, it doesn't look a certain way, and it scares off people who weren't actually friends but followers. Through grief, I've come to terms with parts of myself that I could no longer ignore and nurture aspects of myself that desperately needed watering. I can now go into 2021 feeling like I have a sense of direction and im not left misplaced.

2021 will ultimately be a year of reconnection with myself and the ones I love. It's ironic how a man I was so disconnected from ultimately prepped me to find reconnection in a meaningful and lasting way.