The Countdown Continues — With a Little Bit of Sadness in My Pocket

We’re almost there. Days are slipping through my fingers like sand — and while excitement bubbles under the surface, I won’t lie: there’s sadness too.

My daughter asked me the other day, “Why are you sad, Ma? Just stay then. You don’t have to go — it’s not life and death.”

Or is it?

Because staying, in a job that numbs my brain and a rhythm that dulls my soul — that feels like a slow death. A quiet one. One that creeps in and makes you forget who you are. (Early onset dementia? Who knows. But I swear idleness is dangerous.)

I’m not running away. I’m walking toward something — even if I don’t fully know what. I’m just not built for sitting still, clocking in, cashing out, and slowly unraveling. That’s not a life, not for me.

Still, I hate goodbyes. Always have. They rattle something in my bones. I can’t explain it — for my soul, it’s just too much. And yet, here I am again, standing at the edge of another one.

Maybe it’s FOMO. Maybe it’s knowing how I’ve lived these past months, soaking up the moments as Niko’s gran — the rugby games, the school events, the small-town waves from people who finally know my name. Just as I’ve grown into that space… I’m stepping out of it.

But here’s the thing: I am the grandmother, not the parent. I’m meant to be there — not stay there forever. And there are other grandchildren, other missed moments, other memories still to be made. I don’t want to keep living from the outside in.

It’s time to flip the script and focus on me. My own body, my mind, my heart.

Yes, I’ll be traveling with my mother — and yes, that comes with its own 24/7 reality. But this is still the right thing. I feel it in my gut. I’m not a quitter, and I would regret it forever if I let this moment pass me by.

I don’t have a five-year plan. I barely have a five-week one. But I have the courage to go. To wing it, month by month. To see where the road leads.

So yes — sadness and all — the countdown continues. And we’re going.

Did something here speak to you?

Leave a comment if you feel moved, or simply sit with me in quiet.

If you’d like to walk this road with me, follow Nomadic Grandmother for new stories.

— x Elsabe