I guess that would be compulsive Li obsessing, something I do when I want to push a worry out of my brain. I find something else to obsess about, thereby masking the true level of concern ruminating in my mind. What do you want first, the worry or the obsession? OK, I'll flip a coin – heads, you get the worry first.
It's child related, go figure. My middle one, a girl age 23, is going off backpacking for six months in Australia and Thailand. Six months all by herself. She is my capable woman child, I keep reminding myself. Lots of kids from our neck of the woods do this successfully, but this one's mine.
The obsession: last weekend, after successfully hitting the sale at my LYS, I went to our nearby Home Sense. I'm not sure of the American equivalent, but it's similar to TJ Maxx with odd bits of furniture. There it was, the grand wood dresser I had seen for two weeks prior, marked down 75% from its original price. Four large drawers, two small ones plus two curved doors on the sides, each hiding three good sized shelves. The perfect container for my yarn stash. It could magically turn my knitting room back into a bedroom.
Twice before I saw this chest of drawers, unable to justify its price, but now it was meant to be. Two weeks of self deliberating, should I… should I not buy it, squeezed out the fact that my daughter was really going through with her trek. As the trip grew imminent so was my justification of the purchase. I did it. What the heck we have a truck now, this store doesn't deliver, something to be excited about, what a bargain. Dread balanced with happy anticipation.
Tonight I dragged ambivalent Chuck in his truck for the pick up at his 'favourite' Home Nonsense store. Ha! What was I thinking? The look on his face was plain as day. He respectfully stifled his laughter when the store manager inquired as to the location of my professional movers. That arrogant manager spoke very loudly telling me that people who buy in their store ALWAYS bring their movers for their deliveries, that store staff are not even responsible for moving furniture one inch from its spot on the floor.
Really wanting to tell the man to eff off, I stated clearly that I had no mover, but I did have a receipt that said I had 10 days to pick up my item and I would be back, better prepared. Who would have thought that that dresser weighed 400 pounds! Apparently I hadn't obsessed enough about the details.And why would I buy something 75% off at a clearance store if I could afford movers? I'd be shopping at a real furniture gallery with expensive and convenient delivery arrangements.
Back to the other matter, at 23 it's less about "letting" her go and more about wishing her Godspeed. But I have heard the comments , "How can you let her…, I would never let my daughter…." There are others more reassuring, who travelled alone, packing along similar parental worries.
I have raised her, she is an adult woman who will hopefully make good decisions, and that's about all you can do. So next time you hear from me, my girl child hopefully will be safely in Oz, and I will be transferring my yarn stash from plastic drawers to the concrete (at least it weighs that much) manifestation of my motherly concern.
Life's a Stitch 
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