OK, so I'm a librarian, basically a reference librarian, and when something happens I always seek the comfort of the printed word. So first I head to the Web (yes, I consider that the printed word--it appears on your screen in print, doesn't it? This is one of the fundamental problems information providers have with the Internet, there's no way to distinguish good information from bad, it all looks legitimate). So there's a cancersurvivors.org site that lists the stages of grief. Here are Kubler-Ross' original 5:
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
OK, fine, we're all familiar with those. Now we have someone else who's narrowed it down to a precious few:
Numbness--this is supposed to last for several weeks or months
Disorganization--lasts for many months, thank goodness
Reorganization--lasts for several weeks or months. The "developmental task" associated with this phase is to have a complete emotional relationship with the deceased.
So I check this person's book--she's Roberta Temes and the book is Living with an Empty Chair: a guide through grief. It's not a substantial book and really not that good but has some kernals. Like yearning, when we don't accept the loss as permanent. Well, that's just so hard to do because the pain is so great. OK, I've been working on that one and I think I'm in pretty good shape about it. Then we have transitional objects--objects belonging to the deceased that you wear, sleep with, hold, or just look at because they've taken on a special significance. I seem to have skipped this one because I don't have anything of Henry's other than his chain saw, which is in my mud room, leaking oil on the floor and I have only thought about it, not taken it out to look at it. I have four pictures of him that I already had up in my living room that I look at constantly. And there's anger, ambivalence and guilt. Then we come to behaving by habit--this shows up in the middle phase of mourning. Well I'd have to say this is happening to me in the early stages of mourning because how else would I be dragging myself to work every day and sitting at my desk cataloging things and doing interlibrary loan? Then, apparently we review our relationship just before we act crazy. Since I've acted crazy for too much of my life already and have chemical control of that I'm hoping to skip that one. Reviewing my relationship? I've been thinking constantly of how much Henry meant to me and the roles he served for me in my adult life: mentor, guide, humorist--some Rogers cousing called him a diplomat, which you have to laugh at if you remember what he was like when he had contempt for someone or some situation and felt free to express it.
OK, so that's the empty chair. Then we have a collection of works in a book called "Living with grief after sudden loss." Sounds promising, right? Well, some of it's good and some not great. As for the stages, we have "Complicated mourning."
We had a choice between complicated and simple? I pick simple. But for those of you with complicated minds:
1. Recognize the loss (duh) Understand the death
2. React to the separation, experience the pain (again, duh)
3. Recollect and reexperience the deceased and the relationship
4. Relinquish the old attachments of the deceased and the old assumptive world (no, this is so not like me)
5. Readjust to move adaptively into the new world without forgetting the old--develop a new relationship with the deceased, form a new identity. (OK, this theme is a recurring theme so maybe there's something to it)
6. Reinvest. (If you have anything left to reinvest)
And there you have in in however many steps you want--how to grieve. I like synthesizing information and I believe in learning from other people's observations. I've been through enough years of enough therapy to recognize the validity of theories. Mostly what I feel now is what...vagueness, disorganization, and what's really missing from these lists, simple sadness, such great sadness. I mourn the loss of the future with Henry, and the loss of Henry's future. I'm sure that fits in here somewhere and I'm just not recognizing it.
But today the sun is shining and it's 80 degrees. So far I've had a union meeting, at which we discussed management's formal charge against us of negotiating in bad faith--so now I have to go to Albany on 5/25 to appear before PERB and defend ourselves. Not alone, we'll have our union rep and attorney there. I just heard from two other members who think they should go too, since they were on the negotiating team so they feel they're being attacked blah blah blah. What these people don't realize is that I really don't care, don't feel vested in any of this (here's where the numbness comes in). I'll have to muster up some anger about it, though. Then I had a meeting with the "cataloger" (I use the term loosely) from Plattsburgh Public who feels she should have more capabilities with our new automated system than she does. We deliberately gave her fewer capabilities so she couldn't muck up the data base anymore. She tried to show that we're not doing a good job by waving a spreadsheet in my face, with a bunch of numbers highlighted in blue. It meant nothing, though, and there was nothing to back it up. As soon as she realized that she said "Did you just get your hair cut? It looks cute." Since I didn't wash it this morning and am having a bad hair day and know it does NOT look cute, is in fact flat on one side, I know she was mocking me. I had my hair cut a month ago.
So I did go on my bog walk yesterday with the dogs and it was really nice. They make me laugh and laugh. They are wonderful for that. Those brown girls are just the cutest and sweetest things in the world. I'm lucky to have them. Tess likes to run ahead, run back and around me in a loop, then go ahead to Chances again and again. Off the boardwalk, on the boardwalk, into the moss, under the trees, over the trees. The bog isn't particularly pretty right now, it's rather brown, but it's very quiet and lovely in its own way. And it belongs to me and my dogs.
Have to stop to get hot dogs and buns on the way home tonight--Ken is making his specialty, baked beans for Sunday dinner and I'm making dogs cooked in beer to go with them. Then it's home again home again. My daffodils are just bustin' out all over. When I got out of the car last night they were so much in bloom I could smell them in the air. Very nice. See? I do care what's going on around me.
Friday, April 30, 2004
Thursday, April 29, 2004
According to AOL, it's ten degrees warmer in Two Creeks and AuSable Forks than it is in Wakefield and Naples. Go figure. I hear it's beautiful out, and it looks nice, but I'm in my air-cooled cubicle, looking and feeling very bleary-eyed. Have spent the entire day staring at computer screens. Cataloging idiotic videos, deleting holdings information from various databases, and weeding old rotten fiction titles. Ah, the challenges of being a librarian. We did break to celebrate someone's birthday and had angel food cake with strawberries and Cool Whip. Then I had to meet with a sales rep who always, in the 20 years I've known him, smells like Vicks Vap'o Rub, and has the weakest handshake of anyone I've ever met. And now it's 3:25 and I'm getting ready to drink what must be my 5th Diet Coke of the day before I can head home. I'm hoping to take the dogs on a bog walk today. Let's see if I make good on my promise to myself. Sometimes I just sort of stagger in to the house and plunk myself down.
Last night I was determined to get rid of the tree that had fallen across the bottom of the circle in the driveway so that I could use the driveway as it was intended, as a circular driveway. I mean: what's the point in having the snow melt if you can't drive around the circle? So, after crying the appropriate amount of time because Henry will never again be able to help me solve such problems, or cut up trees like that for me, I got out 250 feet of extension cord and took my electric reciprocating saw down to the bottom of the hill and cut up the tree myself. That was very satisfying. On a roll, I cut town about 6 trees on the north side of the house, along the driveway. These were about 30' high but not very big around. Then I had a long conversation with Henry about the birch tree I'd left along the stone wall when I cut down the rest of the trees there last year. He thought it should come down, I thought it was a nice tree. OK, Hank, you win, I cut it down. I guess it looks better now that it's gone. Anyway, I want to please you so it's gone. I certainly have enough trees. Now I have to decide about the cherry tree in the lawn that's at least 50' high now and only looks pretty when it blooms in May/June. He had decided it too should come down. He might be right about that one, but I think it's too big for my little saw. I also decided that I probably need to get my own chain saw and have my friend Peter the logger show me how to use it safely. This would be really great and would make me feel comfortable living alone in the woods. After all, the only time I cut myself with my saw last night was carrying it back into the house, when I nicked my finger on the blade. It was unplugged and certainly off.
Today I ordered daylilies with the money that Fred gave me. He wanted me to order special lilies in Henry's memory (don't you love people who give you money then tell you how to spend it). So I went to a special lily internet site and ordered one each of: Island Sand Dollar (nearly white, very pretty in the picture), Little Red Warbler (only 18" high and red, who could resist the name), Mini Pearl (Henry loved country music) and Prairie Blossoms (he did live in the Midwest, after all). This place has 400 varieties, and I only looked at some of the new '04 varieties. They have some varieties that cost $75 for a single plant. I didn't order any of those, with my luck Jackson would eat them. These were all pretty cheap, except for Little Red Warbler, which cost $10. Now I have to decide where to put them. At camp, near the boat house? At my house? Is there a spot that's sunny and dry at camp? Do I want to share my bounty with the Rogers family? Will Jordan attack them with John's weed whacker? I know there are a lot of variables in life, but let's try to minimize them, shall we.
Union May breakfast at 7 tomorrow. Julie's idea, up to me to organize and facilitate. Why is it always up to me? Beacuse I'm the president, that's why. Don't these people realize I'm barely functioning? No, I think they can't tell the difference, so apparently I must always seem this way to them. Swell.
Flotsam on the bed this morning included 2 rolls of wrapping paper, one of which I really liked, one of which was the purple paper I don't particularly like and probably bought for Jenica when she was 12, pieces of plastic from the container that held brownies I made for the DC trip, mystery pieces of plastic, Jack standing over me barking, my eyeglasses (NONONONONO), a container of eyedrops (NONONONONONO) and a sock. What a creative little darling is my Tess. She is allowed to take ONE BITE of food from the metal bin while I prepare the other dogs' bowls and she is waiting. She almost always limits herself to this, just one bite. Today, however, she couldn't help it, just couldn't help it, and took TWO bites. "What did I say? ONE bite, that's all, just one!" Head down, "Yes, I know, but there's so much food there and I'm really, really hungry and who knows how much poop I'll be able to find out there in the woods." And Chances patiently points out that she is sitting under the table with just her nose sticking out, taking NO extra bites from the bin, just waiting for her meager portion, less than the other two get because she has a tendency to get FAT.
This is what awaits me when I get home.
Last night I was determined to get rid of the tree that had fallen across the bottom of the circle in the driveway so that I could use the driveway as it was intended, as a circular driveway. I mean: what's the point in having the snow melt if you can't drive around the circle? So, after crying the appropriate amount of time because Henry will never again be able to help me solve such problems, or cut up trees like that for me, I got out 250 feet of extension cord and took my electric reciprocating saw down to the bottom of the hill and cut up the tree myself. That was very satisfying. On a roll, I cut town about 6 trees on the north side of the house, along the driveway. These were about 30' high but not very big around. Then I had a long conversation with Henry about the birch tree I'd left along the stone wall when I cut down the rest of the trees there last year. He thought it should come down, I thought it was a nice tree. OK, Hank, you win, I cut it down. I guess it looks better now that it's gone. Anyway, I want to please you so it's gone. I certainly have enough trees. Now I have to decide about the cherry tree in the lawn that's at least 50' high now and only looks pretty when it blooms in May/June. He had decided it too should come down. He might be right about that one, but I think it's too big for my little saw. I also decided that I probably need to get my own chain saw and have my friend Peter the logger show me how to use it safely. This would be really great and would make me feel comfortable living alone in the woods. After all, the only time I cut myself with my saw last night was carrying it back into the house, when I nicked my finger on the blade. It was unplugged and certainly off.
Today I ordered daylilies with the money that Fred gave me. He wanted me to order special lilies in Henry's memory (don't you love people who give you money then tell you how to spend it). So I went to a special lily internet site and ordered one each of: Island Sand Dollar (nearly white, very pretty in the picture), Little Red Warbler (only 18" high and red, who could resist the name), Mini Pearl (Henry loved country music) and Prairie Blossoms (he did live in the Midwest, after all). This place has 400 varieties, and I only looked at some of the new '04 varieties. They have some varieties that cost $75 for a single plant. I didn't order any of those, with my luck Jackson would eat them. These were all pretty cheap, except for Little Red Warbler, which cost $10. Now I have to decide where to put them. At camp, near the boat house? At my house? Is there a spot that's sunny and dry at camp? Do I want to share my bounty with the Rogers family? Will Jordan attack them with John's weed whacker? I know there are a lot of variables in life, but let's try to minimize them, shall we.
Union May breakfast at 7 tomorrow. Julie's idea, up to me to organize and facilitate. Why is it always up to me? Beacuse I'm the president, that's why. Don't these people realize I'm barely functioning? No, I think they can't tell the difference, so apparently I must always seem this way to them. Swell.
Flotsam on the bed this morning included 2 rolls of wrapping paper, one of which I really liked, one of which was the purple paper I don't particularly like and probably bought for Jenica when she was 12, pieces of plastic from the container that held brownies I made for the DC trip, mystery pieces of plastic, Jack standing over me barking, my eyeglasses (NONONONONO), a container of eyedrops (NONONONONONO) and a sock. What a creative little darling is my Tess. She is allowed to take ONE BITE of food from the metal bin while I prepare the other dogs' bowls and she is waiting. She almost always limits herself to this, just one bite. Today, however, she couldn't help it, just couldn't help it, and took TWO bites. "What did I say? ONE bite, that's all, just one!" Head down, "Yes, I know, but there's so much food there and I'm really, really hungry and who knows how much poop I'll be able to find out there in the woods." And Chances patiently points out that she is sitting under the table with just her nose sticking out, taking NO extra bites from the bin, just waiting for her meager portion, less than the other two get because she has a tendency to get FAT.
This is what awaits me when I get home.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
It snowed last night...for the LAST time this year (let's hope). See, when we were in grade school (now called elementary school) we had to write poems, always writing poems. To learn what? Anyway, one of Molly's poems started out "It snowed last night, for the first time this year." And that's been a catch phrase for our (every-shrinking) family all these years. I can't say "It snowed last night" to anyone anytime without silently adding "for the first time this year." Sweet, sweet sister. Anyway, we only had a dusting, courtesy of Detroit, who got far more than a dusting. I had to scrape heavy ice/crust off my windshield and couldn't find a scraper this morning. Credit cards are very handy. I overslept intentionally today, which frustrates the dogs. We have a clerk who says fusstrates. My dogs were really fusstrated this morning. The contents of my bed included a toilet brush with the scrubber decapitated so that it is now totally useless (Jenica understands this fixation of Tess'), no roll of wrapping paper but a plastic pro-choice banner you're supposed to stick to your car, and a half-chewed roll of toilet paper for good measure. And Jack stood over me for 20 minutes barking at 3 second intervals. No exaggeration, 3-second intervals. It becomes a battle of wills--how long can I stand it for? And Chances nudges my head harder than you would think a dog could nudge. And Tess bounces around with treasures in her mouth, then runs to the living room/bathroom to find new ones. You'd think they'd be exhausted by the time I finally emerge from the covers. If I try to bury myself under the covers Tess digs like an avalanche rescue dog, frantically, before my air supply is cut off. Since she likes to sleep under the covers when it's cold, you'd think she'd just leave me alone and let me be under the covers. On the other hand, since she knows you go under the covers to SLEEP, perhaps she's working very hard to keep me AWAKE. Or, maybe I'm giving her entirely too much credit!
It's cool today, only supposed to be in the 40's, up to 70 tomorrow and maybe 80 on Friday. What? My daffodils are actually blooming. It's surprising how cheering that can be. I got home yesterday and walked around the yard, inspecting everything. Tess is so cheerful when I get home, it's hard to be anything but happy around her. She loves being let out of her cage, and really loves being with me. Runs away from me just so she can run back to me, leaping in the air. I have tete a tete daffodils, 6" high and incredibly cute, in several clumps now blooming bright yellow. My other standard borders of early bloomers are just starting to open. And, wonder of wonders, I have three batches of lupines coming up! This is a miracle, I've been trying to grow lupines for years. My friend Lin has fantastic lupines that I drool over each year, they just get better and better. Now I may actually have some bloom. There are some spectacular batches of lupines along the roadsides here in the North Country. They bloom in late June. I always associate lupines with Nova Scotia. Did we see them there, or did I just see pictures? I have a feeling we saw them. We saw Diana and Charles get married from a motel room. No...from a motel room we saw Diana and Charles get married. Molly saw more of it than I did, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. It was at like 5 in the morning and she was wide awake. I do remember hearing Diana get his names in the wrong order, though. And look how that whole mess ended up.
I really like Molly's blog entry about family and Kristen being part of our family. I'm really happy she's willing to join our family. It completes a circle for me, and makes Henry that much more "alive" for the future. No, he's not alive. I keep remembering what his cold body felt like when I held it. If I hadn't done that I'm not sure I'd believe he was really, truly gone. Kristen and I shared a special time, standing there with the body, talking to him and talking to each other, talking about how he looked, stroking his hair and his face. God that sounds so morbid but it was so peaceful and wonderful at the time, so comforting to us. He was our Henry for that moment. And now we have our Kristen and our Margaret and our Grace and we're so lucky to have them with us.
Today there's a meeting of the correctional facility librarians here. They love going to meetings, which I suppose I would too if I worked in a prison. They have a different world of library service, that's for sure. I've been asked to meet & greet them, then stay for the meeting to talk about the interlibrary loan service we do and don't provide to them. Like, why can't we get them the book "Whoreson" or "The spook who sat by the door" every time they request it? And why can't we get them books to fill the subject request on lesbian sex slaves?
I ordered my ReDefeat Bush bumper sticker yesterday. I cut up the Silver Lake college decal for my car window so it just says Silver Lake now, quiet classy actually. I like to have something on my car that makes it mine. It's hard for me to put a Kerry sticker on my car, since I can barely support him, but I can certainly support a movement to defeat Bush. Lots of interesting sentiments at the march in DC, if my brain weren't such mush I could remember some of them.
Perhaps I should try to get some work done before the inmates, I mean librarians get here.
It's cool today, only supposed to be in the 40's, up to 70 tomorrow and maybe 80 on Friday. What? My daffodils are actually blooming. It's surprising how cheering that can be. I got home yesterday and walked around the yard, inspecting everything. Tess is so cheerful when I get home, it's hard to be anything but happy around her. She loves being let out of her cage, and really loves being with me. Runs away from me just so she can run back to me, leaping in the air. I have tete a tete daffodils, 6" high and incredibly cute, in several clumps now blooming bright yellow. My other standard borders of early bloomers are just starting to open. And, wonder of wonders, I have three batches of lupines coming up! This is a miracle, I've been trying to grow lupines for years. My friend Lin has fantastic lupines that I drool over each year, they just get better and better. Now I may actually have some bloom. There are some spectacular batches of lupines along the roadsides here in the North Country. They bloom in late June. I always associate lupines with Nova Scotia. Did we see them there, or did I just see pictures? I have a feeling we saw them. We saw Diana and Charles get married from a motel room. No...from a motel room we saw Diana and Charles get married. Molly saw more of it than I did, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. It was at like 5 in the morning and she was wide awake. I do remember hearing Diana get his names in the wrong order, though. And look how that whole mess ended up.
I really like Molly's blog entry about family and Kristen being part of our family. I'm really happy she's willing to join our family. It completes a circle for me, and makes Henry that much more "alive" for the future. No, he's not alive. I keep remembering what his cold body felt like when I held it. If I hadn't done that I'm not sure I'd believe he was really, truly gone. Kristen and I shared a special time, standing there with the body, talking to him and talking to each other, talking about how he looked, stroking his hair and his face. God that sounds so morbid but it was so peaceful and wonderful at the time, so comforting to us. He was our Henry for that moment. And now we have our Kristen and our Margaret and our Grace and we're so lucky to have them with us.
Today there's a meeting of the correctional facility librarians here. They love going to meetings, which I suppose I would too if I worked in a prison. They have a different world of library service, that's for sure. I've been asked to meet & greet them, then stay for the meeting to talk about the interlibrary loan service we do and don't provide to them. Like, why can't we get them the book "Whoreson" or "The spook who sat by the door" every time they request it? And why can't we get them books to fill the subject request on lesbian sex slaves?
I ordered my ReDefeat Bush bumper sticker yesterday. I cut up the Silver Lake college decal for my car window so it just says Silver Lake now, quiet classy actually. I like to have something on my car that makes it mine. It's hard for me to put a Kerry sticker on my car, since I can barely support him, but I can certainly support a movement to defeat Bush. Lots of interesting sentiments at the march in DC, if my brain weren't such mush I could remember some of them.
Perhaps I should try to get some work done before the inmates, I mean librarians get here.
Monday, April 26, 2004
Monday night and I spent most of the day sleeping. Got home from Washington at 6:00, arriving in Plattsburgh at 5 a.m. It was great to get home: dead silence except for the birds chirping their first-thing-in-the morning chirps when I got out of the car. It is really wonderful to live here. Hear a white-throated sparrow this morning for the first time this spring. Anyway, the trip to Washington was grand. We took the bus down, left Plattsburgh at 10 Sat. night. I dropped the dogs off at the kennel at 6:30 that night. Tess' first time there, Jack's too. Joan is so great, she thought it was wonderful I was going to the march. Anyway, the trip down was good, no one slept much. There were 2 buses, the quiet and loud, we were on the loud of course. Showed movies all night, nothing we hadn't seen, including Big--Tom Hanks sure was young back then. We had a good time going down, everyone brought some food & we all shared, plus Leisa had a little Jack Daniels to pass around. We got to DC at 6 or so, went right to the mall, wandered around a while. Lots of tents set up, free t-shirts, buttons, signs to carry. Then the speeches started and we were at the front, hanging out on the grass & having a good time. We finally figured we should get back to where the NY State marchers were so we walked way down the mall, found the general area and fell asleep on the grass there. Woke up after they started the march, so we started out with marchers from Penn. Since we lost 3 members of our group of 7 on the way across the mall, we cut across to the beginning of the march, ending up marching with the socialists, which I really liked (their t-shirts said "Pro-choice and Anti-capitalist," I desperately wanted one. Then we switched and started marching with people from California, who had bullhorns and lots of creative slogans to yell. The march took 2 hours even though we didn't go far, it was just really slow because there were so many of us. CNN apparently estimated the crowd at 1.15 million, but newspapers seem to be saying 800,00 or so. Lots of women but some men too. Plenty of women our age but lots of younger women as well. In our group was Leisa, Lin, me, Cheri (the woman who owns the Jay Craft Center) and her daughter, another woman I knew from Saranac Lake, and a third woman who was really strange and I'd never met before. So after the march we sat on the grass and listened to speeches a while longer before heading back to the stadium where the bus was parked (along with about 70 or 80 others). The trip was really well organized, right up to the metro tickets to get us back & forth to the mall. We left DC at 6:30. The trip home was slow, traffic tied up all the way up the East coast on 95 from the march. It was a great time and I'm really glad I had a chance to go.
Now I'm home and it's cold cold cold. Had a fire and had the heat on all day. Picked the dogs up this morning. Joan only charged me for 2 days, not the 3 I expected, plus it was a lot cheaper than I remembered, so all went well. She likes Tess, says she a nice dog (always makes me feel good when she likes me dogs, I consider her a good judge of dog character) and said that Jack barked the whole time she was in the kennel with the dogs but settled down at night.
Tomorrow it's back to work, only now the director will be there. First time I've seen her since Wisc., not looking forward to this. She has no sense about these things, will not know how to approach me or deal with me. She'll either be rude and cold, or will act like an 8-year-old around me.
Liza called me this afternoon, not feeling too great by her own admission. I talked to her for a long time, an hour or so, and she seemed to feel better when we hung up. She liked it that she could call during the day using the phone card so that was a good idea. She didn't sound as bad as she did the other afternoon when I talked to her--Friday afternoon she almost wasn't making any sense. Today she was good, just sad. Me too. Howard called & left a message yesterday, knowing it was Henry's birthday. I thought of Henry a lot during the day, but then I think of him a lot everyday.
Walked to camp on Saturday--the ice went out Friday! Going to camp is still really difficult for me, I just wish Henry were still there--more for him than for me. Everything at camp is fine, it seems strange to have water there rather than ice, but it's nice. A window at the peak on the second floor, in the bedroom at the head of the stairs, broke and there's glass on the ground. It seems to have broken from the inside--that usually means there was a bird inside who flew out through it. I didn't go inside to check it out, had just gone down to take the dogs for a quick swim. I'm trying to get used to going to camp, toughening up, I guess. I know those Rogers cousins will want me to comfort them this summer, telling me how wonderful Henry was and how great a loss to the family it is, how different camp is without him, etc., so I want to be able to be there myself (if I'm doing to go there at all, that is). If I never reach the point this year where I can be there and enjoy it, then that's the way it goes. I don't need to be there.
The dogs survived their incarcertion just fine. Because it was so short I think Tess thought of it as an adventure. Jack jumped in the car and went right to sleep in the back seat. Tess and Chances sat in the front seat and watched the road through the windshield all the way home. They really are a special pair. It will be good to sleep in my own bed with them tonight.
I started reading East of Eden on the bus, only read a dozen or so pages. Whew! This is a big, long book. And now I'm having my nightly therapy of Law and Order (you know, Crime). Oh yeah, found a cool site, I think it's redefeatbush.com. They had shirts and stickers and posters.
Now I'm home and it's cold cold cold. Had a fire and had the heat on all day. Picked the dogs up this morning. Joan only charged me for 2 days, not the 3 I expected, plus it was a lot cheaper than I remembered, so all went well. She likes Tess, says she a nice dog (always makes me feel good when she likes me dogs, I consider her a good judge of dog character) and said that Jack barked the whole time she was in the kennel with the dogs but settled down at night.
Tomorrow it's back to work, only now the director will be there. First time I've seen her since Wisc., not looking forward to this. She has no sense about these things, will not know how to approach me or deal with me. She'll either be rude and cold, or will act like an 8-year-old around me.
Liza called me this afternoon, not feeling too great by her own admission. I talked to her for a long time, an hour or so, and she seemed to feel better when we hung up. She liked it that she could call during the day using the phone card so that was a good idea. She didn't sound as bad as she did the other afternoon when I talked to her--Friday afternoon she almost wasn't making any sense. Today she was good, just sad. Me too. Howard called & left a message yesterday, knowing it was Henry's birthday. I thought of Henry a lot during the day, but then I think of him a lot everyday.
Walked to camp on Saturday--the ice went out Friday! Going to camp is still really difficult for me, I just wish Henry were still there--more for him than for me. Everything at camp is fine, it seems strange to have water there rather than ice, but it's nice. A window at the peak on the second floor, in the bedroom at the head of the stairs, broke and there's glass on the ground. It seems to have broken from the inside--that usually means there was a bird inside who flew out through it. I didn't go inside to check it out, had just gone down to take the dogs for a quick swim. I'm trying to get used to going to camp, toughening up, I guess. I know those Rogers cousins will want me to comfort them this summer, telling me how wonderful Henry was and how great a loss to the family it is, how different camp is without him, etc., so I want to be able to be there myself (if I'm doing to go there at all, that is). If I never reach the point this year where I can be there and enjoy it, then that's the way it goes. I don't need to be there.
The dogs survived their incarcertion just fine. Because it was so short I think Tess thought of it as an adventure. Jack jumped in the car and went right to sleep in the back seat. Tess and Chances sat in the front seat and watched the road through the windshield all the way home. They really are a special pair. It will be good to sleep in my own bed with them tonight.
I started reading East of Eden on the bus, only read a dozen or so pages. Whew! This is a big, long book. And now I'm having my nightly therapy of Law and Order (you know, Crime). Oh yeah, found a cool site, I think it's redefeatbush.com. They had shirts and stickers and posters.
Friday, April 23, 2004
And now we're getting ready to wrap up the day. The clock on this blog is way off, it's now 3:35 p.m. Today went by soooo slowly. I weeded for a long time, a process made somewhat more interesting because of our new automated system. What used to be keystrokes are now mouse clicks, so it's now click click click click click instead of F1 F2 F1 F3, etc. Not sure which is faster but I think this is turning out to be faster, there's definitely less typing involved and because it's Windows-based there's a lot more retention of earlier searches, which really saves work. God bless that Bill Gates, huh. Anyway, I'm into the MA's now, past the Matthews and moving right along. I swear it will be a miracle if I ever finish the fiction.
I ate 3 donuts this morning--the obese diabetic husband of the bookmobile clerk works at Plattsburgh's most famous bakery, and to reward him for a job well done they stuffed a box full full full of fresh donuts, chocolate frosted (a particular favorite), cinnamon twisted glazed (another favorite), so I felt depressed and mildly hungry this morning, plus proud of myself for getting to work 20 minutes early, thus ate like an obese diabetic. I'm still feeling ill all these hours later. I never did have the sugar crash I expected.
Called Liza this afternoon, who was disappointed I called because she wanted to call me using her new phone card, which she got in the mail from me. I told her to call Molly sometime when she wanted to talk to her. "But she calls me with her Euro card." Yes, but this way you don't have to wait until she calls you, if you feel like talking to her you could call her first. Anyway, now she can call anyone she wants to, any time she wants to. That should be good. I'm going there for Mother's Day, in spite of the fact that we'll spend all day Saturday driving around delivering flowers. She admitted that it's better doing that with another person, which I knew she'd prefer (she's told me in the past she really doesn't like doing it). Then on Sunday we'll go plant shopping and I'll come home on Monday. A whirlwind tour. Seems to me I've been there for Mother's Day in recent years but who knows.
Made arrangements for drop off and pick up times with the kennel this weekend. Warned Joan that Jackson barks and Tess eats poop. She said they sound just like her dogs, which was a relief to me. Her dogs are so well behaved I thought she'd think my dogs were kennel scum.
And now it's 4:00 and I just got off the phone with Liza who called with some strange messages for me, not sounding in very good shape. Too bad we're all so far apart or we could be of more help to each other, I think. She wanted me to know that Henry didn't think he had heart disease, she was sure. And maybe if he'd had more tests done he would have discovered some of the things that were wrong with him. Well I'm certainly not going to be doing any thinking like that! Hell, if I'd known I couldn't have children when I was thirty maybe I'd have had a child when I was 19, who knows.
I have to go to the grocery store to buy good things to eat on the way to DC. Estimates are that there will be a million people there on Sunday. I'll believe it when I see it. It would be nice, but who knows. I also need shoelaces because my dog Tess loves to chew them up, just after she eats some toothpaste. I have used duct tape to seal off the bottom of my toothpaste tube now so that I can squeeze it to get both the white stuff and the green stuff out to get just the right mix to fight cavities AND whiten my teeth when I brush. Here are some of her favorite things (aside from poop): toothpaste, Swatches, kleenex, toilet paper (on the roll), the tabs on the heels of shoes used to pull them up, shoelaces, anything in a burnable rubbish bag, anti-eat-poop pills, bark from firewood, photographs (the more precious the better), soda cans, orange peels that Jack is chewing on (you don't eat them, you just chew the pith off of them), Christmas tree balls (a special favorite because the pop! when you chew them), handmade baskets (especially the little ones), small ceramic dog figures that are really whistles. Oh the list goes on and on.
I'm out of here.
I ate 3 donuts this morning--the obese diabetic husband of the bookmobile clerk works at Plattsburgh's most famous bakery, and to reward him for a job well done they stuffed a box full full full of fresh donuts, chocolate frosted (a particular favorite), cinnamon twisted glazed (another favorite), so I felt depressed and mildly hungry this morning, plus proud of myself for getting to work 20 minutes early, thus ate like an obese diabetic. I'm still feeling ill all these hours later. I never did have the sugar crash I expected.
Called Liza this afternoon, who was disappointed I called because she wanted to call me using her new phone card, which she got in the mail from me. I told her to call Molly sometime when she wanted to talk to her. "But she calls me with her Euro card." Yes, but this way you don't have to wait until she calls you, if you feel like talking to her you could call her first. Anyway, now she can call anyone she wants to, any time she wants to. That should be good. I'm going there for Mother's Day, in spite of the fact that we'll spend all day Saturday driving around delivering flowers. She admitted that it's better doing that with another person, which I knew she'd prefer (she's told me in the past she really doesn't like doing it). Then on Sunday we'll go plant shopping and I'll come home on Monday. A whirlwind tour. Seems to me I've been there for Mother's Day in recent years but who knows.
Made arrangements for drop off and pick up times with the kennel this weekend. Warned Joan that Jackson barks and Tess eats poop. She said they sound just like her dogs, which was a relief to me. Her dogs are so well behaved I thought she'd think my dogs were kennel scum.
And now it's 4:00 and I just got off the phone with Liza who called with some strange messages for me, not sounding in very good shape. Too bad we're all so far apart or we could be of more help to each other, I think. She wanted me to know that Henry didn't think he had heart disease, she was sure. And maybe if he'd had more tests done he would have discovered some of the things that were wrong with him. Well I'm certainly not going to be doing any thinking like that! Hell, if I'd known I couldn't have children when I was thirty maybe I'd have had a child when I was 19, who knows.
I have to go to the grocery store to buy good things to eat on the way to DC. Estimates are that there will be a million people there on Sunday. I'll believe it when I see it. It would be nice, but who knows. I also need shoelaces because my dog Tess loves to chew them up, just after she eats some toothpaste. I have used duct tape to seal off the bottom of my toothpaste tube now so that I can squeeze it to get both the white stuff and the green stuff out to get just the right mix to fight cavities AND whiten my teeth when I brush. Here are some of her favorite things (aside from poop): toothpaste, Swatches, kleenex, toilet paper (on the roll), the tabs on the heels of shoes used to pull them up, shoelaces, anything in a burnable rubbish bag, anti-eat-poop pills, bark from firewood, photographs (the more precious the better), soda cans, orange peels that Jack is chewing on (you don't eat them, you just chew the pith off of them), Christmas tree balls (a special favorite because the pop! when you chew them), handmade baskets (especially the little ones), small ceramic dog figures that are really whistles. Oh the list goes on and on.
I'm out of here.
A Web site dedicated to so-called quirkyalones, quota community
[of people with] ... independent thought on singledom, life, and
love." These people are "romantics who resist the tyranny of
coupledom." This site provides the 2000 essay that sparked the
movement, a quiz to determine if you are a member, online
discussions forums, and information about International
Quirkyalone Day, February 14.
http://quirkyalone.net/qa/
[of people with] ... independent thought on singledom, life, and
love." These people are "romantics who resist the tyranny of
coupledom." This site provides the 2000 essay that sparked the
movement, a quiz to determine if you are a member, online
discussions forums, and information about International
Quirkyalone Day, February 14.
http://quirkyalone.net/qa/
Thursday, April 22, 2004
So today I called work and said I wouldn't be in. I can't focus on much of anything except for the fact that my brother has died and I miss him terribly. I miss everything about him and I miss the fact that there are no longer three children in my family. Three was always such a good number, how great it was to say "I have a sister and a brother." Now I sound selfish. It's not just for me that I miss him. I miss him because he gave so much to everyone, and was such an interesting addition to the world. Well the world lost him and so did I.
The sun is shining and there's a warm wind blowing. This means the ice will go out faster. There's a huge patch of open water at the foot of the lake, by the Beach House (why does Leroy get EVERYTHIING--even open water, first?) and the rest of the ice is very, very dark. This means it will be gone soon, soon. That will be strange, diamonds sparkling on blue water. My daffodils are doing a remarkable job of being big fat buds, looking forward to being bright yellow blossoms. Can't wait.
The dogs were so restless this morning, so eager to get up--I let them out at seven and went back to sleep for 3 hours (I didn't go to bed until 2:30). When I finally did get up the deck was strewn with dead dog bodies, here and there. How cute and peaceful they looked, sleeping in the sun. But as soon as they heard life in the house they popped right up, since they hadn't been fed yet. Now, at 1:00 they're strewn about the living room, sound asleep and peaceful since I'm at home, the door is wide open so they can be outside if they want to. All is right with the world as far as they're concerned. Sometimes I can feel that way, but then a darkneses descends over me, a physical sort of thing. Oh, Henry would not want this. And we do try to do what Henry would want, don't we.
Dinner with Ken last night was frozen fried chicken. He got that because he didn't want me to have to cook. How sweet is that! It was actually pretty tasty, and we had a nice time. I only cried a little bit. Then I retired to the living room to eat the Godiva chocolate truffles he got for Christmas, which only I am eating, apparently.
Tonight is the first meeting of my book group. I'm neither looking forward to it nor dreading it. That's pretty much the way I feel about everything. Spring, summer, leaves on trees, the arrival of the warblers. At least I made an appointment for my gyno. annual visit, which I apparently forgot to do last year. They had an opening for early May (OK, "opening" is NOT the right word to use in this case) so that made me feel good. I feel very vulnerable about my health, don't we all, these days. Today I will call to make an appointment to get new glasses. Since Tess has hidden my current prescription, I'm wearing last years. I get one free pair a year through my insurance. I also need to call to make an appointment for my mammogram (mammiogram, as they say where I work). Spring is tune-up time for my body.
Check out the camp calendar--as Jenica points out, there's a glitch in the posting from August on and John and Phyllis apparently will be living in Dockside for all eternity. After looking at the calendar and realizing that David and Penny will be at camp for a week I went into a deep funk, a really deep funk. I can't stand the thought of David Philo at my brother's memorial ANYTHING, service, commemoration, whatever. I feel like telling each member of the Rogers family what Henry really thought of them, but don't worry everyone, I won't. No, Penny and Ada, you're safe. And that reminds me that I need to call the undertaker. Time to make a list.
The sun is shining and there's a warm wind blowing. This means the ice will go out faster. There's a huge patch of open water at the foot of the lake, by the Beach House (why does Leroy get EVERYTHIING--even open water, first?) and the rest of the ice is very, very dark. This means it will be gone soon, soon. That will be strange, diamonds sparkling on blue water. My daffodils are doing a remarkable job of being big fat buds, looking forward to being bright yellow blossoms. Can't wait.
The dogs were so restless this morning, so eager to get up--I let them out at seven and went back to sleep for 3 hours (I didn't go to bed until 2:30). When I finally did get up the deck was strewn with dead dog bodies, here and there. How cute and peaceful they looked, sleeping in the sun. But as soon as they heard life in the house they popped right up, since they hadn't been fed yet. Now, at 1:00 they're strewn about the living room, sound asleep and peaceful since I'm at home, the door is wide open so they can be outside if they want to. All is right with the world as far as they're concerned. Sometimes I can feel that way, but then a darkneses descends over me, a physical sort of thing. Oh, Henry would not want this. And we do try to do what Henry would want, don't we.
Dinner with Ken last night was frozen fried chicken. He got that because he didn't want me to have to cook. How sweet is that! It was actually pretty tasty, and we had a nice time. I only cried a little bit. Then I retired to the living room to eat the Godiva chocolate truffles he got for Christmas, which only I am eating, apparently.
Tonight is the first meeting of my book group. I'm neither looking forward to it nor dreading it. That's pretty much the way I feel about everything. Spring, summer, leaves on trees, the arrival of the warblers. At least I made an appointment for my gyno. annual visit, which I apparently forgot to do last year. They had an opening for early May (OK, "opening" is NOT the right word to use in this case) so that made me feel good. I feel very vulnerable about my health, don't we all, these days. Today I will call to make an appointment to get new glasses. Since Tess has hidden my current prescription, I'm wearing last years. I get one free pair a year through my insurance. I also need to call to make an appointment for my mammogram (mammiogram, as they say where I work). Spring is tune-up time for my body.
Check out the camp calendar--as Jenica points out, there's a glitch in the posting from August on and John and Phyllis apparently will be living in Dockside for all eternity. After looking at the calendar and realizing that David and Penny will be at camp for a week I went into a deep funk, a really deep funk. I can't stand the thought of David Philo at my brother's memorial ANYTHING, service, commemoration, whatever. I feel like telling each member of the Rogers family what Henry really thought of them, but don't worry everyone, I won't. No, Penny and Ada, you're safe. And that reminds me that I need to call the undertaker. Time to make a list.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
And today I was late for work because I faced this:
chaos in the bedroom
lost eyeglasses (where, Tess, where did you put them? not under the bed, where I found 3 chapsticks and 6 pens, all very useful but not good for seeing with)
chaos in the pantry, where Jackson ripped apart the contents of the burnable rubbish
a mocha latte that was NOT mocha from Dunkin Donuts, prompting a return trip with a second and finally thrid try before it became an honest MOCHA latte
The boss isn't in this week. How convenient. She still emails me, wanting me to meet with her and the superintendant of the AuSable Valley school district, because "I'm so quick." Too bad, I'll just be getting back from Washington that day, she approved my day off 5 weeks ago. Someone else, someone sssllllooowww will have to take my place. Meanwhile I actually did accomplish some things this morning. My proudest accomplishment was a grade-A email to Kristen, which I promptly lost somewhere in space and cannot retrieve. It was a good one, too. Boy the taxpayers are not getting their money's worth this week. I talked to my mother at length this morning. She was not in good shape but I cheered her up. Her friend Ginny doesn't know how to do that but keeps trying to, which only makes things worse. People notice: if the person doesn't respond, and in fact tells you you are making her feel worse, stop what you're doing. Last night I finally answered the inevitable Call from Keela. It was in the middle of my 2-hour crying jag. My answers were monosyllabic. The questions were brief. I think I scared them. So now we need to know: will they call again, feeling they can cheer me up, or are they afraid of me because I'm so grief-stricken I should be left alone? Right now I'm Poor Pitiful Betsy, a perennial favorite of theirs. I did have a good, cleansing, very painful cry last night. When it hurts, it hurts, and it won't stop. I miss my brother. I miss the promise of my brother. I ache for him, for his future, for his life.
Liza and I talked about a headstone. I will try to get to the stonecutter's soon and see if he has a brochure. It's not really a brochure-type place but you never know. She favors just his name and the dates, a low stone. Kristen and I talked about this, so did Molly and I, I like something simple but something they won't mow over. The mowers hate ones that are raised because they're harder to mow around. I'll talk to the undertaker, who's also president of the cemetery and is a really nice man and who likes me. Since no one in the family has died in the past couple of years it's time for us to catch up anyway. For some reason I can talk about a headstone without great emotion. Is this because tasks help us by offering purpose? Guide us through this? Work tasks sure aren't doing that for me, I cried all morning. I had to delete all the email messages reporting on Henry's progress during his time in the ICU. Then I had to fill a bunch of requests for a bunch of inmates who are all ALIVE. But then I ordered a pair of muck boots and a sweater from Lands End overstocks.
Tonight I buy more pills to make my dog's poop taste bad (what, you need pills for that?). Tess ate a huge bunch of the pills last night because apparently the pills taste really good. So today her poop won't taste good. The stuff works, I've seen her try to eat Chances' poop--she sniffs it, tries to pick it up, puts it down in disbelief, picks it up again, drops it, sniffs it, shakes her head and walks away, dejectedly. Oh the things I do to ruin my dogs' lives.
And now I should move along to something work-like. Like drinking a Diet Coke. I have to stay at work until 4:30 today, a nice quiet half hour after everyone else leaves. Maybe I'll call my gynecologist to make an appointment, make an appointment for my mammogram, make an appointment for an oil change, and what else? I could call my psychiatrist to see if I'm doing ok about my brother's death. I could call my internist to tell him I'm terribly frightened about my heart and arterial health. So many calls I could make! I wish I were in Wisconsin. Now who would EVER think I would utter those words? I'm the last to guess on that one. I have a knot in my stomach that won't go away. I feel as if I'm always just about to be nervous about something. I feel as if I'm always just about to cry. People asked me this morning how I'm doing. I just shake my head, sometimes with my eyes full of tears, sometimes just staring at the floor. They're very gentle with me, and very kind. I feel like saying "I'll be back, but not the same, and I don't know when. You just can't imagine how much he meant to me."
chaos in the bedroom
lost eyeglasses (where, Tess, where did you put them? not under the bed, where I found 3 chapsticks and 6 pens, all very useful but not good for seeing with)
chaos in the pantry, where Jackson ripped apart the contents of the burnable rubbish
a mocha latte that was NOT mocha from Dunkin Donuts, prompting a return trip with a second and finally thrid try before it became an honest MOCHA latte
The boss isn't in this week. How convenient. She still emails me, wanting me to meet with her and the superintendant of the AuSable Valley school district, because "I'm so quick." Too bad, I'll just be getting back from Washington that day, she approved my day off 5 weeks ago. Someone else, someone sssllllooowww will have to take my place. Meanwhile I actually did accomplish some things this morning. My proudest accomplishment was a grade-A email to Kristen, which I promptly lost somewhere in space and cannot retrieve. It was a good one, too. Boy the taxpayers are not getting their money's worth this week. I talked to my mother at length this morning. She was not in good shape but I cheered her up. Her friend Ginny doesn't know how to do that but keeps trying to, which only makes things worse. People notice: if the person doesn't respond, and in fact tells you you are making her feel worse, stop what you're doing. Last night I finally answered the inevitable Call from Keela. It was in the middle of my 2-hour crying jag. My answers were monosyllabic. The questions were brief. I think I scared them. So now we need to know: will they call again, feeling they can cheer me up, or are they afraid of me because I'm so grief-stricken I should be left alone? Right now I'm Poor Pitiful Betsy, a perennial favorite of theirs. I did have a good, cleansing, very painful cry last night. When it hurts, it hurts, and it won't stop. I miss my brother. I miss the promise of my brother. I ache for him, for his future, for his life.
Liza and I talked about a headstone. I will try to get to the stonecutter's soon and see if he has a brochure. It's not really a brochure-type place but you never know. She favors just his name and the dates, a low stone. Kristen and I talked about this, so did Molly and I, I like something simple but something they won't mow over. The mowers hate ones that are raised because they're harder to mow around. I'll talk to the undertaker, who's also president of the cemetery and is a really nice man and who likes me. Since no one in the family has died in the past couple of years it's time for us to catch up anyway. For some reason I can talk about a headstone without great emotion. Is this because tasks help us by offering purpose? Guide us through this? Work tasks sure aren't doing that for me, I cried all morning. I had to delete all the email messages reporting on Henry's progress during his time in the ICU. Then I had to fill a bunch of requests for a bunch of inmates who are all ALIVE. But then I ordered a pair of muck boots and a sweater from Lands End overstocks.
Tonight I buy more pills to make my dog's poop taste bad (what, you need pills for that?). Tess ate a huge bunch of the pills last night because apparently the pills taste really good. So today her poop won't taste good. The stuff works, I've seen her try to eat Chances' poop--she sniffs it, tries to pick it up, puts it down in disbelief, picks it up again, drops it, sniffs it, shakes her head and walks away, dejectedly. Oh the things I do to ruin my dogs' lives.
And now I should move along to something work-like. Like drinking a Diet Coke. I have to stay at work until 4:30 today, a nice quiet half hour after everyone else leaves. Maybe I'll call my gynecologist to make an appointment, make an appointment for my mammogram, make an appointment for an oil change, and what else? I could call my psychiatrist to see if I'm doing ok about my brother's death. I could call my internist to tell him I'm terribly frightened about my heart and arterial health. So many calls I could make! I wish I were in Wisconsin. Now who would EVER think I would utter those words? I'm the last to guess on that one. I have a knot in my stomach that won't go away. I feel as if I'm always just about to be nervous about something. I feel as if I'm always just about to cry. People asked me this morning how I'm doing. I just shake my head, sometimes with my eyes full of tears, sometimes just staring at the floor. They're very gentle with me, and very kind. I feel like saying "I'll be back, but not the same, and I don't know when. You just can't imagine how much he meant to me."
Monday, April 19, 2004
FUNERAL BLUES,
by WH Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong'
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
by WH Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong'
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Now my life has changed. I feel tremendous pressure to live--I have only a sister, there are only 3 of us in my immediate family now, down from 5. I can't die, it would be too much for my mother and sister. I hope they take their lives as seriously as I take mine, I couldn't handle having anything happen to them, either. I drive more carefully, watching the cars around me--"Hey! don't cut in front of me, I can't die!" No, I won't follow people to their destinations and lecture them on safe driving habits the way they do in Vermont, but I'm watching all of you, betwen my house and my work.
It's supposed to be very warm today, unbelievable for here. The tulips at work are very high, no buds yet but the plants are obvious and energetic. My daffodils at home are working hard as well. Crocuses are showing everywhere. I forgot where I put clumps so it's a pleasant surprise, a tribute to my father. He used to put small bunches of crocuses in the lawn here & there so they'd be cute surprises in the spring. One of my friends gave me money to buy daylilies in memory of my brother. Well, Fred likes daylilies, I like Asiatic lilies, but I'll buy daylilies, either will be appropriate to Henry's memory. There are wonderful daylilies these days and I'll have fun ordering them from a catalog and getting fancy ones. I'll have to give lots of thought to where I'll put them, another thing I never do in gardening--act like a real gardener.
I'm at work, pretending to care about my job. It all seems so trivial now. Is this what life is really about? Shouldn't we be doing something more meaningful? Kristen at least has a job that matters, that changes the course of life in our country. I just give people books to read, and do less and less of that as the books disappear and are never returned. I used to really believe in what I do. Now I believe in loss of life and the ensuing devastation for the survivors. I miss my brother. I miss his future. I miss the promise of the things I was going to learn from him that he would have enjoyed teaching me. I loved having him explain things to me--even when he didn't really understand them, but especially when he DID understand them and felt so great to be ablel to help me that way. Then he'd be impressed by my use of his assistance. A sweeter man I don't think I've found.
Walked to camp yesterday, crying all the while. Once I got there it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. Good cheer found it's way to my heart. There was just enough open water for the dogs to swim a bit--Tess only swam because Chances did and Jack thought it didn't look like that much fun. I walked around all the buildings and pronounced them safe. Didn't go inside any of them. I think I WILL be able to stay there this summer, sad, but appreciative of the beauty and comfort the place will offer me. It's Henry's boat house in many ways, that's for sure.
Saturday's mail brought two cards: one from my boss (ack) and one from...MA Moore. A trip to the mailbox hardly worth making, wouldn't you say? I hardly functioned at all for the last 4 days. Lay on the couch, watched tv, did crossword puzzles, napped. Spoke to 2 people on the phone, once I turned the ringer back on. I had taken a 2 day break from communicating with the outside world, which felt wonderful. Being selective in who you speak with is the best therapy.
And now it's time to shuffle some papers around my desk.
It's supposed to be very warm today, unbelievable for here. The tulips at work are very high, no buds yet but the plants are obvious and energetic. My daffodils at home are working hard as well. Crocuses are showing everywhere. I forgot where I put clumps so it's a pleasant surprise, a tribute to my father. He used to put small bunches of crocuses in the lawn here & there so they'd be cute surprises in the spring. One of my friends gave me money to buy daylilies in memory of my brother. Well, Fred likes daylilies, I like Asiatic lilies, but I'll buy daylilies, either will be appropriate to Henry's memory. There are wonderful daylilies these days and I'll have fun ordering them from a catalog and getting fancy ones. I'll have to give lots of thought to where I'll put them, another thing I never do in gardening--act like a real gardener.
I'm at work, pretending to care about my job. It all seems so trivial now. Is this what life is really about? Shouldn't we be doing something more meaningful? Kristen at least has a job that matters, that changes the course of life in our country. I just give people books to read, and do less and less of that as the books disappear and are never returned. I used to really believe in what I do. Now I believe in loss of life and the ensuing devastation for the survivors. I miss my brother. I miss his future. I miss the promise of the things I was going to learn from him that he would have enjoyed teaching me. I loved having him explain things to me--even when he didn't really understand them, but especially when he DID understand them and felt so great to be ablel to help me that way. Then he'd be impressed by my use of his assistance. A sweeter man I don't think I've found.
Walked to camp yesterday, crying all the while. Once I got there it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. Good cheer found it's way to my heart. There was just enough open water for the dogs to swim a bit--Tess only swam because Chances did and Jack thought it didn't look like that much fun. I walked around all the buildings and pronounced them safe. Didn't go inside any of them. I think I WILL be able to stay there this summer, sad, but appreciative of the beauty and comfort the place will offer me. It's Henry's boat house in many ways, that's for sure.
Saturday's mail brought two cards: one from my boss (ack) and one from...MA Moore. A trip to the mailbox hardly worth making, wouldn't you say? I hardly functioned at all for the last 4 days. Lay on the couch, watched tv, did crossword puzzles, napped. Spoke to 2 people on the phone, once I turned the ringer back on. I had taken a 2 day break from communicating with the outside world, which felt wonderful. Being selective in who you speak with is the best therapy.
And now it's time to shuffle some papers around my desk.
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