In my last post I was waiting until Our Lord took care of some important things, or headed me in the right direction to deal with some of them, before telling you more about it all.

Last winter I returned to this fine city, and rested awhile, then found another nursing job I soon realized was a huge mistake. Nurses hired on, then left so quickly, we almost could have used a revolving exit door. It reminded me of little four legged critters working their hearts out in tiny cages, where no matter how hard they pedaled, they never got anywhere. The work load was unbelievable. I stayed with it four and a half months, but when I couldn't stand it any more, one day I got in my car, and began driving to other area nursing homes.

Before I sat down here tonight, I already knew what I'm eager to tell you, and somewhere in all of that a quote by T.S. Eliot keeps surfacing in my head. I haven't read his "Four Quartets", but that is where you'll find it.

In some years I've heard it many times: "We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time."

For a reason I didn't then understand, I felt pulled to go to a certain nursing home, instead of others, so I did. The old parking lot was just like before, but provided ample spots. Heading toward the entrance I realized it was now in a different place. After all, it was years ago that I worked there as a nurse's aide.

Mr. Eliot was right. It was like revisiting myself. But the younger me looked so different, in my all white uniforms, and those ugly white stockings, back when bedpans were heavy metal, and thermometers still glass. The most important thing I wore, more treasured than jewelry, was my brand new stethoscope. I admit it felt special, hanging from my shoulders. I will never forget walking through the doors there with license in hand, so proud of finishing training, and passing State Board. But any ideas of my work being special quickly disappeared, when they assigned me to shifts on the locked psychiatric unit.

Work wasn't all I did back then. Several romances came into my life, and most of them, like time, also left. In all of it I'm sure I made many mistakes, and a few regrets. But for a very long time, nursing dominated everything else I did.

But back to the future, or present here. The current Director of Nursing interviewed me, and offered me a job. A few days from now, that is what I'll be doing. But not until I work my last shift at the old place. I have no doubt tomorrow will be one of the best days I've been there.

Something about getting the work situation straightened out and the going back in time, gave me what I needed to deal with something else. When I got back from getting the job I went right to the phone,and called a mortgage broker, who helped me find a very good realtor. In the past two weeks I've looked at more than a dozen places, and made an offer on one. Yesterday the first phone call let me know it's approved. Some of my children live not far away, and it's about twelve blocks from the house to the new job.

It really is true. We have to go back to what and where we were, to see our ourselves, not only for the very first time, but to understand how to live the rest.