All good things must come to an end. Or so they say. But is that really true? I just returned from my younger brother’s wedding in the US. It was small, relaxed, western-themed, and lovely. And there was a buffet of Texas BBQ, it couldn’t be any better.

The goodness of meeting his lovely wife was a great thing, and his “good thing” didn’t end. It culminated in something better, exchanging vows.

I can say that seeing him with her made my heart happy, as it meant one thing. My job is done. I’m not my brother’s caregiver, but as I grew up with him coming from a neglected and dysfunctional childhood with two parents that were checked out, I took responsibility for him as we grew up. Hence whenever something went wrong in his life, I would joke I failed and didn’t raise him right. And deep down I always knew if anything ever happened to him, I would drop what I was doing and take care of him.

But now all good things must end. As much as I would gladly do anything for him, I will no longer ever need to. He has married “the one.”

Being his older sister will always be a good thing. But now I know I can just be his sister and nothing more. A good thing turned into a great thing with him finding the love of his life. A win-win for everyone.

Times in my life where something was good and eventually ended was sometimes a good thing, other times, well you know. And right now I’m experiencing many good things ending at once.

Like having all my siblings together for the first time for the wedding. How long had it been? Well, when mom died many years ago and that was a long time ago. And now we are all a lot older. A lot. We all range in age from 56-76. What are the chances our being together will ever happen again? Probably never. So It was a good thing. Another great thing that ended as we said goodbye to each other at the airport.

Why do good things end? Cause sometimes they must. Sometimes they are forced to, sometimes it’s a choice.

My gig here is ending. My good thing of two years as a language auxiliary teaching cute-ass wild kids Spanish ages 6- 12 in the beautiful country of Spain is over. The days of siestas, working only three and half days a week, and having a yummy tapa and beer for a whole three euros is over.

I’m going home to the US.  Not that I have a home. I left and sold everything I had two years ago to make a change and maybe find my forever home, or at least a place to consider retiring. But, it’s not time yet.

There have been some incredible highs and lows here. The lows are all documented on this blog if you are interested in going back and looking at going to hell in a handbasket such as was my life the first year.

Or read about the bureaucracy, the poor healthcare, the language barriers, the days of sweating all day in schools that don’t have AC, and the nights of noisy Spaniards keeping me awake till 5 am and no AC in my apartment to at least cool my temper. I drank a lot when I got here.  A lot. Just kidding. Not.

But the highs were great, the cheap three-course lunches for a measly ten euros, and bottles of great Spanish wine for $5. The Mediterranean within an hour’s drive. The varied landscape of this country from the lush cool north with mountains and cliffs over the crashing Atlantic. To the gorgeous crystal blue oceans and beaches with the most beautiful multicolored stones I ever saw sparkling around my toes. The castles, oh so many everywhere, and the Roman aqueducts. I could go on and on about the terrain, the multicultural influence of this country, and the siestas and fiestas.

Never in my life did I see so many parties in the streets, and the firecrackers shot off at every wedding at the feet of the spectators watching the bride and groom leave the church. Firecrackers and no police to monitor it. What a concept. Cause it was part of the party, the celebration, the life at that wonderful moment. Just watch where your standing as a bystander, and don’t get your ass shot off, not that I would know.

The siestas. Did I mention that already?

And the relaxed attitude of a culture that really does believe in taking the time to live, to eat, to socialize at least 3 – 5 times a day. They manage to live on much less, like $1300 a month mind you,  and so they don’t travel the world, they travel here, within their own country, or just go to the beach. And they’re happy with it. Of course, no life is perfect. But it was pretty close for me once I got used to it.

A different life it is.

As a part-time worker, I found it to be the best life, just enough work to make sure you know what day it is, with plenty of time to go to those beaches, and travel all over Europe too, because well, it was still cheaper than coming from the USA so I did it. A lot.

So a good thing is ending.

I have a trigger finger for travel, and it often went off a bunch. Between that and my $800 month in medications, all I can say is the money does not grow on olive trees. Or in the case of where I live, pomegranate trees. I will miss those pomegranates.

Because I turned 60 years old the program I’m here under is NALCAP;  the North American Language and Culture Assistants program. And it’s only for ages 18-59.  I knew that going in, but figured Ide figured it out as I went and see what happens.

I did secretly hope they wouldn’t notice my birthday and I put in for a 3^rd year to move to the north of Spain where it’s greener, prettier, and cooler. But alas they caught it, and I was sent an official letter that my renewal was declined as Ide be 60 by January 2024. Adios chica. Your done, terminado. Your too old bitch.

Get the f***  out of here.

So what can I do? nada.

I did investigate other programs, but it doesn’t solve the one long-term problem I have.

I’m not ready to retire and my pension is not ready yet for a few more years. If I stay, I drain what’s left of my savings. And there aint much left. If I go, I will make some money and can keep thinking of where my last stop will be.

And with that,  I knew deep down they didn’t have to tell me twice. I’ll go.

But I know at the end of my life I’ll be able to say, “I went” instead of “I wish.” That stands for something.

So, this good thing is ending. Not because I wanted it to, but because it had to.

As for the rest of my life, well, I hope it starts over as another good thing. Then I’ll see how it goes.

Next week I’ll say goodbye to the teachers and the kids. I don’t speak enough Spanish to say all good things must come to an end, I’ll miss you all, but I’m glad I never had kids…..again. Hahaha. God knew my place in the world; see them, teach them, laugh with them, hug them, but don’t take em home.

So instead, I’ll just say thanks for the best two years of my life,  please come visit me in Texas when you can.

So…I went ahead and ordered food and beer for all the staff of the school for my last day. (That’s right; wine and beer at the school cause it’s what they do. Gotta love the Spanish life, when in Rome….)

And as is the Spanish way you provide the food and cake when it’s your birthday or your celebratory life event whatever it is for everyone to celebrate with you. In this case it’s two things: my favorite brother has married the “one” and to celebrate making new friends despite my lack of obtaining the Spanish language. Oh well, 2 out of 3 aint bad. Pour the vino!

Oh and I told them all since I’m a nurse everyone gets their blood pressure from me before I go. (got to practice being a nurse again btw.) They all think that’s a hoot. Let’s hope their relaxed lives match their blood pressures, and we done have any “last day events” is all I’m thinking haha.

Anyway, I have about one month left here. My trigger finger jumped one last time. I’ll be going to Germany for a week to see the black forest area and climb another stair race with someone very special. I’m looking forward to some naked Roman bathing in the thermal baths in Baden Baden at the start, another new experience to mark the beginning of my new life, stripped and bare, and let it all go. And with strangers. What better way to get naked except with people that will never see you again! Seeing how I never latched on to the naked beach bathing here, might as well try it at some Roman baths with no one I know.

Besides, I’ve decided now that I’m 60, the body aint perfect. When I get home I’ll get some Botox. Right now, I’m still in another country, what happens here stays here. Then I’m on a plane. Adios Europe. What the hell.

Then I’ll be landing in Turkey for a couple days, another new location where I hope to get a Turkish bath and get my “Turkish coffee” grounds read by a fortune teller.

I wonder what she will see in my coffee. Hopefully something stronger than Decaf.

Then it’s back to Texas, my old job, and old friends.

Onward and upward.

Adios

Somewhere in Spain