Thursday, February 17, 2011

If I were standing on a cliff, overlooking immense chasms, I'd expect this post to come bouncing back to me in it's echo.
A vast empty space.
No listeners.
No readers.
It's been, what? Eleven months? That seems to be the track record with this thing these days. Once a year. A check in.

It's par for the course here, for the most part. A shuffling of employees, the same regulars.

Last Mother's Day, the only other breakfast/lunch joint in town closed it's doors so the summer was balls to the wall busy. Almost more than we were able to deal with. On any given day, we'd run out of plates and glasses and mugs. We'd run out of ingredients. Dishes would pile three times higher than the lip of the sink. The summer prior I had been out to the resevoir several times a week... swimming, rowing, paddling a surfboard. We'd driven down the NH coast at least once or twice a month to camp and be on and in the ocean. This past summer I was lucky to grab a day off every week. And, of course, it was the most gorgeous summer I can remember since moving to Vermont. But the drawer was full, so I won't bitch.

I still love what I do, but I'm starting to wonder what comes next. There's been talk of moving to the NH coast for Ella's 9-12 grades. It's a better school system, healthier area, in general, and of course, close to surf. It's hard to know what the right thing to do is. Ella has such strong friendships here. She always has. But the school system is definitely not what we had hoped for her. It's really a double edged sword and we may not know the right answer until we've actually made the move. A gamble.

I would have to sell the shop. That, or pick it up in a moving truck and find a space for it down there.... which.... I really wouldn't mind doing. And there's a niche. We haven't gotten that far in our decision making processes yet.

There's also the factor of my father. He's making his way into the depths of early onset Alzheimers Disease. Up until recently it's been one of those things that only family members and close friends might be able to recognize. Now, though, it's increasing in it's intensity. Gradually, but happening nonetheless. I still don't know how to set up my life to allow myself more time in his company. Will I be more available owning my own business and thus creating my own schedule or should I resign myself to a more disposable kind of work...
Again. No answers yet.
All I know is that I want to be home more. Getting that time in with him and helping my mom set up the life she has ahead of her. From the NH coast, I'm five hours (four with my driving) instead of eight hours away (seven with my driving). That has it's appeal.

And, of course, the more I discuss these situations with the people around me (my father's illness and the potential move to NH), the more people come in to ask if the shop is for sale. They all ask with this sense of fear in their eyes and I want desperately to rest a hand on their shoulder and say, "No, No! I will always keep it in my constant care, I promise." I've seen this place change hands and I know how dire the situation can get when a shit job is done on keeping this place a working, customer friendly establishment. Other than my job at parenting, this shop is my second most proud accomplishment to date. There's a serious element of responsibility when it comes to passing the baton.

And, although I know the time is approaching, I find myself withdrawing from the task. Shying away. I'm just not ready yet. Not knowing what comes next.... that's a factor, too. Not knowing if it's the route to take.

So, eleven months later, there are no answers. Just a lot of questions. Once the answers start trickling in, I'll send out a holler. Over the chasm. Even if it's just to hear my own echo validating my decision.