Good news: I'm still doing well, mostly out of touch with reality.
Bad news: I think of little things that Mike would have done around the house and realize he is gone.
I slept well last night. I woke up before 7 am. I am so glad it's spring. When I do Bikram, I have to get up at 6 am to do my whole morning routine and get there for the 7:30am class. I don't like getting up in the dark. I like being awakened by the birds.
Okay, so I weighed myself today. No, I have not lost weight. I think I gained a pound or two. What a surprise! No real exercise for 5 ½ weeks, and for the first 2 to 3 weeks a cheese-filled croissant a day. Fortunately, one day I didn't eat one I bought until the next day. The cheese was bad. That turned me off them. I still had my share of chocolate chip cookies and Hersey's Milk Chocolate with almonds, preferably whole.
I walked Elsa and restarted my regular morning routine. I did an oil rinse while I washed the dishes. I had been letting them go because there were some in the drying rack (my dishwasher) that Mike always put away. They go on a shelf that is too high for me.
I also finally swept the floor. There was a dead roach I had killed while Mike was in the dialysis clinic that fatal day. It was my job to kill the creepy crawly critters and his to pick them up. I thought, "Where are the ants when you really need them?" I finally got a broom and swept the kitchen floor. Sweeping stuff into a dustpan isn't easy for me because I don't do bending well. Lo and behold, I missed the bug. It was still sitting on the floor after I got most of the stuff up. I guess bending down to pick them up is definitely my job now.
Yesterday, I had called Chris Schreck, the rector of the Pontifical College of Josephinum in Columbus again. Hmm! He's not answering my calls. Should I take a hint? I think it's about the books; the librarian has probably said, "Absolutely not!!! What am I going to do with 3,000 books?" One of my questions to Chris was, "Could the seminary in New Orleans use these books? They lost everything in Katrina. Of course, it is perfectly possible that everyone is donating books to them, and they're starting to feel like China with the recycling. No more!! I know, I know. China's motivation is probably very different.
I finally called the diaconate office in Trenton back. Very, very nice ladies. They asked me if my husband was a Roman Catholic, I said yes. They said, "Well, you called the Episcopalian diocese in Trenton." They had looked through all their archives and could find nothing. They finally entered Mike's name online and found the problem. How sweet! Real aloha spirit and as far away from the aloha state as you can get and still be in the USA. I called the number they gave me, reported his death. Done.
I called Deacon Clarence to ask him about the obituary someone wrote for the National Association of Diaconate Deacons to see if I could modify it for distribution to other newspapers. Tom Dubois, the author, works out of the Josephinum, where Mike worked in Columbus. He told me that he, Clarence, and John Coughlin had all had some input. He said I'm free to use it any way I like. If a newspaper I submit it to has any problems, he is happy to sign a release form. Now I have to make the changes.
But that wasn't on the agenda for the day. Once I had started a load in the washing machine, I got to work looking for pictures which Damon could use to create a montage for me personally which we can use at the funeral and another one which reflects his church life. I found a picture of us which was taken the day of his ordination and a plaque designating him an ordain deacon on May 14, 1994. Then another picture taken at the last diaconate retreat. I'll have to live with the fact that I look like a dumpy old lady in the second photograph. I found one other picture showing him in some church activity, don't even know what.
For the church montage, we're planning to use those two pictures and whatever other pictures we can gather, showing him in church activities. I promptly called Brenda and asked her to put out a request for photos and gave her Damon's email address.
Today, I found an email I had missed. Someone responded to my blog/ log/ journal entry on my interaction with a visitor who said, "He wanted to remember Mike before he got sick and still had his dignity." I gave that gentleman what-for as I had given Mike what-for when he described himself as not being a person anymore in his helpless condition. "How dare you describe yourself that way. Regardless of your condition, you are always someone of great dignity, integrity, and love." Boy, was I ever pissed! This letter reflected my thoughts. Below is the response is that response. There is no name attached because the person asked to remain anonymous. I can appreciate the sentiment. I think it is beautifully written, a wonderful tribute to our humanity in our weakened condition and to Mike.
Dear Betty,
I just read your last letter. The fact that someone should suggest that Deacon Mike lacked dignity because of his physical state, just infuriates me.
People have been twisting the meaning of that word for years to absolve themselves of responsibility to care for the lives of the weak, the dying , the special needs people, and anyone else that they deem should not have the right to live anymore. It is a crock!
Dignity is the way you live your life, the goodness that springs from your heart, the kindness you show, and the strength that moves you to push through weakness, the love and faith that make a mere mortal strive to move mountains, and in the end, your immortal soul.
No one, no machine, no tube, no catheter, nothing ..could ever take away Deacon Michael Ross' Dignity.
I just have to tell you, that many a Thursday evening, I was not looking forward to getting off the couch and driving to Church for a Liturgy class, but always, without exception,
I was so glad that I did. And I always marveled at the energy and motivation and zeal that made him continue as long as possible when he was so ill.
He touched so many lives for good, I will never be able to do a reading at Mass without whispering a thank you to him for the insight he gave about the Scriptures.
May the memories bring you joy!
Assuming that Damon would want to do the eulogy, I called him to tell him I was comfortable with him doing it. He said that he was not interested or willing to do the eulogy. Holy Cow! I guess I am the one doing the eulogy.
I called Clarence to ask him what the difference was between the eulogy and the homily since he would be talking about Mike, too. He explained to me that it was his job to relate Mike's life to whatever the readings were for the day. The eulogist has a great deal more freedom. I would have a max of 15 minutes. I don't think anyone who has read this blog will have any doubts about my ability to fill 15 minutes. The question is , can I limit it to that time limit? I've done it before. A little rehearsal with a stopwatch. If not, Walter can start playing music to signal it's time to stop. It will be like the Oscars.
I spoke to Susan Bender, the parish secretary, about the schedule for the funeral. At 9:00 am is visitation. That means people come to the Church to see the family. (Get me out of there! All I need is to be reduced to tears by their sympathy, or, worse yet, their pity right before I have to do the eulogy.) Zola gave me some support. She has just recently lost a second child. It was devastating. She also can't stand pity. She said when her mother was diagnosed with cancer, she told people if you want to offer me pity, stay away from me. My sentiment exactly.
I think I have a solution to avoiding the visitation situation without looking entirely off the social mark. I asked about the possibility of having the Hulu ministry dance at the funeral. Because it is Lent, they can't do it during the Mass. But, they can do it before or after the Mass. Mike always wanted me to join that ministry. Bending down is out, but my arms are still good. I watched the dancers; the older ones don't do those bends. A little late for Mike to enjoy my participation. Hopefully, I won't be overcome by emotion while dancing. Judy Glickstein recommends that we do the Ava Maria has been already choreographed. The plan is for Walter, the cantor, to do the singing. I love his voice. He says he's not trained, but his voice is just a joy to listen to.
I spent most of the afternoon going through the pictures looking for those of Mike, which might be suitable for the picture montage of his personal life. It was so much fun doing that. I also found some of Yvette's mother when she was in her thirties Yvette had never seen, and many of me at many different stages of my life that she also had not seen.
I was planning to go to Walmart and spend several hours getting the paper pictures converted to digital images. Not a fun prospect. Sandor, our optometrist, a deacon candidate and a good friend of Mike's, called and offered to bring over his professional quality scanner, copy them and send them to Damon. How much better. He said it shouldn't take much time. With the two of us working together, it should be much more comfortable than me doing it alone at the store. Zola also called and offered her scanner. She seems to have some good technological knowledge. I asked her if she was really under 30 and only looked like she was 60. No, she just has knowledge. Can us old dogs learn these new tricks? I suppose there's hope. Zola also offered to do the program for the Mass and suggested setting up a slide show using these pictures of Mike. That's what they had for their daughter. I am not doing this alone.
Clarence, head of the deacon program in Hawaii, who will be serving in the Mass and will be doing the homily, sent suggestions for the reading. Judy, Paulette, and I will go over it together and make choices. I promised Clarence that I would send him our choices for his final okay. He's the one who has to find a way to relate Mike's life to these readings. I want to make sure he feels comfortable doing that with the readings we pick.
I called Damon to tell him that Sandor would be helping me scan the pictures and send them to him. August, his son, is the family's one-man Genius Bar. His technological knowledge is fantastic. He is an expert at 15. Can you imagine, it is really possible to have a teenager an expert in this day and age. Is that good or bad? He told me he was getting tons of pictures from people from the Church. He thinks it's wonderful. Due to our in-contact-with-everyone world, Damon is receiving condolences from people he hasn't heard from in 20 years.
Chris Schreck got back to me around my dinner hour. Most of my issues around the obituary had been resolved in my conversation with Tom Dubois. Chris will check if the seminary has any use for any of Mike's books. Tom said he would check to see if the New Orleans seminary can use them. He directed me to call Mike's colleague in the distance learning program to deal with the certificates of program completion, sitting on Mike's desk. When I did call him, he said I could just throw them out. I was planning to mail them to him today but got involved with the picture project and ran out of time. Tomorrow I have to do that and get to the Apple store to see if they can help me download the information from my old phone to Mike's, now my new phone before it completely dies. For now, I can consider it just among the halt and the lame.
I also talked to Chris about the tabletop computer and printer that the seminary gave Mike because he was doing work for them. Mike got a laptop computer and stopped using the other one. I hoped that I would get to keep the printer. Chris said absolutely; keep them both. Mike worked on the distance learning program for free and never asked for anything.
Sandor called while I was on the phone with Chris. It was actually his wife, Meallinani, also an optometrist, and a dear friend of Mike's also. They were picking up Thai food, did I want any? Hmm. I had tried to eat before they came. Had some salad and soup. But I find there is a new type of hunger in my belly that I'm not used to. I actually hope its grief instead of some illness.
Today, a package arrived from the ashram with the brewer's yeast I left there. Now that was prompt.
I started dealing with some of Mike's laundry that I had sorted and folded but hadn't had time to put away. Not one of the most pleasant tasks. I'd consigned it to him because he has so many clothes, I couldn't fit the clean laundry in the drawer anymore.
Sandor and Mealliinani took much longer than I expected to get here. When they did, they said it took them an hour to get their food. I had set the table for three, and we sat down together. Sandor said the blessing. The food was good; the company was even better. After dinner, Meaali’inani washed the dishes, and Sandor and I got to work on scanning the pictures. Now, this is my idea of good guests: they bring their own food and do the dishes. Mike would have been mortified. He had a more formal idea of hosting. I called him the Martha Stewart of the family.
Mike loved to cook. For him, it was a way of relaxing. Even planning his meals was a way to relax. His grandmother had taught him to cook. She did it professionally in an Orthodox Jewish community in Lakewood, New Jersey over the summer. It was Mike who picked out all our dishes and pots and pans. He also did all the food shopping. I haven't cooked a meal in 45 years. I did before, somewhat. I was trying to learn to cook when I met Mike. I was cooking tuna casseroles and a favorite from the NY Times cookbook called pork apple pie. Forget that. Mike made fun of my cooking for years. Just as well. I don't think he could have easily shared a kitchen with someone else.
At one point in our marriage, he came up to me and said, "I've decided it's not fair. I do all the cooking. You should do some, too." Okay. So, I got out a vegetarian cookbook and went to work. I wanted more of that in my diet. I hated every minute of the job. Mike objected to what I was cooking and declared, "You're not supposed to cook that. You're supposed to cook what I want to eat." I responded, "If I'm cooking, I'm going to cook what I want to eat." After a few days of that, Mike came up to me and said, "I've been thinking about it. When I cook, you do the dishes. When you cook, you do the dishes. That's not fair. From now on, I'll do all the cooking, and you do the dishes." Deal!!
A short while after that incident, Mike needed shoulder surgery. He assumed he would be home to cook dinner. However, he had a difficult time recovering from the anesthesia. When the dinner hour approached, he frantically called my mother, who lived with us in the mother-in-law extension (ohana), to ask her to put some dinner together. His desperation was probably made worse because he was still somewhat under the influence of the drugs. We got home at 11 pm that night. Dinner wasn't an issue.
Scanning the photographs went like a breeze. Sandor has this high-end machine which he uses for work. Something like 60 photos were rapidly uploaded. Amazing! A chore I envisioned having to do alone at Walmart for hours, went quickly, and was an absolute delight. Again, Mike has taken care of me by bringing these folks into my life. I'll say it again: I am so lucky. I was lucky to have Mike in my life, and now I am fortunate to have Mike still looking out for me. I could feel him smiling a relaxed, satisfied smile as he observed our time together that evening.
Before they left, Sandor went back into Mike's library, a very Mike room. We converted a 2-car garage into his library for his 3,000 books. Mike's will states that his books should be given to the Josephinum Seminary library. Oh, well. But I will be moving all those books out of this house at some point. I'm thinking there may be other people who studied with Mike who would like to see his study/library before it's dismantled. It's so him.
Sandor and Meali'inani left shortly before 10pm. I was too stimulated and happy to go to bed right away. I watched some tv, took Elsa for her before bed walk, and finally went to sleep myself.
