Premature Attachment?

Hubs took next week off from work to deal with the mess in Houston. My nag job feels well done for his having been able to chill here on the farm in between his paid gig and the "executor" gig. Watching him close out his parental estate has been enough to make me grateful for the absence of birth family in my own life. Far fewer phone calls and suprise expectations. I EXPECT dangerous looking critters to scurry out of my family cabinets. Hubs was functionally clueless that all these secrets were crawling among the china and treasure chests. He actually thought he KNEW his parents. For this morning, it is comforting to see the lines and colors of his face softening for the past 3 days of rest.

He is still undecided whether I will a help or a hindrance in Houston. I feel like it would be counter-productive to press him for a decision. I am encouraging him to "Free Process." We don't get to know where a healing journey will take us. When I go off to deal with my PTSD psycosis by myself, travelling alone leaves me freer to listen for and follow the quiet voices of the healing mysteries. I call it, "Free Processing." Hubs has been encouraging me to explain that in greater detail. I have been doing so while simultaneously plying it to my own slice of this emotional pie. I never formed any functional attachments to his parents, but their deaths have shaken every member of my family, including me. So far, so good. My work-a-holic is resting instead of whipping himself to "GET THE JOB DONE" regardless of cost to health and happiness. I think I am holding steady through my own part in the domestic drama.

In my own slice of this emotional pie, I find myself resistant to spending a week away from the farm. I am already quite attached to the place. The "Transferrance" drawer of my therapy toolbox is jiggling like a bad girl while I ponder the attachment. I have been here less than three weeks. The farm is still in probate and the BIL's barely known branch of the family tree will be half owners if the probate process completes on its current course. The two brothers did not inherit money. They only inherited property. Property ownership is not a cheap date. Our current retirement budget is not going to cover this farm. Not even half of it.

In addition, there is my track record for developing unrealistic expectations during the romance phase of any relationship. Week three is allot rosier than week 300. It has led me to many a speedy crash and burn.

Sill sorting. . . Pasos chicos, fe grande y oraciones siempre. . .