Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Good news: Well, I'm still happily out of touch with reality. Bad news: I woke up after 4 hours of sleep, my mind full of all of the things I had to do. It was a day filled with to-do activities. The first thing was walking Elsa, the start again of my daily routine. Next, unpack. Since I have trouble bending down and the rip-stop nylon duffle bag was too heavy, I pulled stuff out of it and threw them on the bed. What a mess! Mike hated mess. At one point in our marriage, he came up to me and said, "I'm neat, your messy. My way is better than yours." I said, "Excuse me, this is a marriage. I have as much right to my neurotic need to be messy, and you do to your neurotic need to be neat." And it was neurotic. Mike had a fear of chaos. Even as he was dying, he was concerned about creating order. Or, at least that was my take on what his thinking was as a noticed his furrowed brow. Telling him my plans for organizing my life, his funeral, his books, etc., after his death resulted in smoothing those worry lines. I spoke to Clarence several times. He asked me to put together an obituary. Then he sent me a wonderful composed one. It was a resume with mention of me and his son, Damon. His work as a deacon was more complete than I could have made it, and it was very well written, probably someone who is the professional for the NADD, National Association of Deacon Directors. I have to contact the person, ask if I can use it as a base, and add a few more details. I want to include the colleges Mike attended and expand the list of family members: His wife, Betty, his first wife and mother of his son, Jean, his son Damon, Damon's wife Cylin, his grandson August, his sister Randy Ross, and his nieces Tara and Shivani Ganguly, and Shivani's son Sidney Roth-Ganguly. Both our families are very small, and each person is important. When I spoke to Clarence, he reminded me that it was Ash Wednesday. I guess I'm about to start my 40 days in the desert. I called Judy to see her plans and tell her I wanted to go to church with her. When she picked up the phone, she said she had been reaching for it to call me about the same thing. She said she and her sister, Paulette, would pick me up at 11:30 for the noon mass. I continued bustling around the house, putting things away. Many of the things I brought back were Mike's. There were not just the clothes on his back, but I had packed books, his power book, things I thought he would use in the hospital, and the need for the trip home. Lots of little stuff. I also called St. Paul's in Princeton, where Mike served as a deacon from 1994 to 2003, and then the diaconate office in Trenton to tell them both of Mike's death. I spoke to someone at St. Paul's. The person had heard of Mike but only started working there after he had left. I talked to a machine at the diaconate office. I got a call back telling me they had no record of a Mike Ross. What?! "They must be thinking of deacons who are currently active in the diocese." I was working away when I finally looked at the clock: 11:21. Oh, dear. Stripped down, jumped in the shower, did just enough of washing so I was reasonably presentable at a distance, and got dressed as quickly as I could. 11:30 arrived, and no Judy and Paulette. While standing in the driveway, Marsha and Charlie, my neighbors across the street, came back from their walk around the area. They expressed their condolences and waited with me. They have been wonderful, helping out with Elsa. They love her too. I am so lucky to have the support and help when I need it. I find Hawaii such a generous place. At 11:42, Judy and Paulette arrived. We made it late to mass. I thought I would see more people who I know and who know me. Brenda, Don, Zola, Jack, Mindy, and Ed, and Cindy were there. I caught glances from other people who may or may not have recognized me or just wondered who these rude women were coming in so late. The thing that's the hardest is watching other loving elderly couples. Then I think I will never have that again with Mike. Most people just looked at me and smiled wanly. Then one person gave me that oh-poor-you look. I didn't take that well. For me, that said rejection. They were focusing on my loss of Mike and not on the life ahead of me. As I walked back down the aisle to get to my seat after communion, Mindy gave me a hug and said, "I love you." That's what I want. I can't imagine why anyone would want it differently. I'm sure I'm wrong, but I find I don't understand it. I don't want to focus on the loss; I want to focus on what I have left. I hope the community will still embrace me even though Mike, their beloved deacon, is gone. I hope I am enough to hold my value in this world. Judy, Paulette, and I drove back home (they live right down the street from me.) Judy and Paulette were part of team Elsa while I was gone. Elsa couldn't be in the house all day by herself. She needed to get out to do her business. She slept with Yvette and Josh at night. In fact, she was downstairs with them whenever they were home. But because Elsa has an issue with the next-door neighbors' four dogs, and got into a fight to the death with Liner, one of Yvette and Josh's dogs, over a ball, they couldn't leave her down there unsupervised. Yvette had to throw water on them to get them to stop. There were no injuries, but Yvette, erring on the side of caution, has picked up all balls from the yard and the house. All balls play must be supervised. Elsa can play ball pretty much non-stop. Everyone who comes into the house is a likely play partner. She will bring the ball back to you, knowing that's the best way to keep you going. If you don't pick it up, she'd take the ball in her mouth and drop it on your foot. This is serious business. She won't tolerate being ignored. Mike loved to play with her. She loved to be with Mike. He was her person of choice. She seems to be adjusting, but when I first came home she kept looking at the door waiting for him to come in. I keep telling her, "It's just us from now on, girl." Judy stopped in the house to help me put ear drops in Elsa's ears. She and Paulette not only walked her, at their scheduled times, played with her, whenever Elsa could get them to, they took care of her physically. Judy noticed that the hair between her toes was too long and getting dirty and matted. They washed her feet and did somewhat of a trimming. Judy made arrangements to get her groomed at Petco and took her down there before I got home. At the time, we still didn't know when I would be back, and if I would be alone at that time. Elsa has a persistent skin rash since we've had her. I have medication for her, but it never clears up completely. When I got home, I noticed it was gone. Judy said it was in evidence before she took her to Petco, and gone shortly after. We suspect it may have something to do with the soap they used. It may also be that Mike and I never got around to bathing her once a week as we were supposed to. Negligence, your name is Ross. Our friends from Maryland, John and Carol Zimmerman, had asked about the funeral arrangements. We are planning a service here in Hawaii. It will be on March 30. My sister's family won't be able to make it because my niece is expecting April 2, and my sister, her mother, will be there to assist with the baby care. Mike and I were planning to go in for the bris or baby naming. It was going to be a visit with family. Now, the visit will serve two purposes: I will get to see the baby, and mainland family and friends will join together for a memorial for Mike. The parish funeral is primarily for the parish, with some family. Mike and I are the only Catholics among our family and friends, so the mass will not be that meaningful for them. The memorial in Seattle will be small and intimate. We just have to find a place to do it because Karin, my niece, and her husband, David, are on overload, understandably. I was going to text the Zimmermans about the funeral plans. Then I figured it would be easier to talk in person since there were choices to be made. I had these poor folks on the phone while I went through a pile of mail, opening the envelopes and sorting them according to throw away and save for further processing. While we were able to keep up the conversation, talking to someone who is somewhat distracted and interrupts every once in a while, to give more attention to the sorting task isn't anyone's idea of a good conversation. I thanked them for keeping me company during this tedious task. It really was good to speak to them. They have been long time friends. The Zimmermans moved in next door to us when we were living in our rental home in Princeton. The previous owner introduced us to them before they moved in. Within days after they arrived, Mike and I were leaving town for a weekend. John told me that their refrigerator broke. I handed him the key to the house and told him to use ours. I never heard if they actually used it, but understood how they thought I was the strangest person just handing over the key to my house to total strangers. Now, it was Princeton New Jersey, not Hawaii. In Hawaii, it would be absolutely normal. And, they had just moved from New Haven where Carol completed her Ph.D. at Yale. They had been robbed at least once. They didn't live in the safest neighborhood. I made an appointment with the funeral home for 4 pm. Paulette went down with me. Judy was willing to, but she is getting chemo, and I don't want her to exhaust herself. I had a great time driving with Paulette. Her husband was a drummer whose favorite music was jazz fusion. She talked about how the band he played with would work together, co-creating this wonderful music. Mike and I were into co-creating; we assumed whatever we did 'our' way would be an improvement over either one of ours. I thought of it as an exciting process, one in which an unexpected delight awaited me. The clearest example of this occurred early in our relationship. We were shopping at Fortunoff's in Manhattan for a stainless-steel silverware pattern. Each of us went off on our own to find something we liked. I found something ultra-modern; Mike picked something akin to the silver pattern my grandparents picked at the end of the 19th century. We looked at each other's selection, and without a word, we went back for a second look. I selected something that reflected his taste while it was still modern, and he selected something suitable for the 19th century. Again, after a quick indication that neither of us was satisfied with either selection, we each went back to the troth to look for something else. The third attempt was a charm. It was Mike who found the pattern we both like: something clearly modern but with soft lines. I don't think either of us has ever regretted that choice. I remember when I first discovered co-creation. I was at a Be-in (anyone remember those) at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. There were two men improvising music, one on drums, a person I knew Phil Chumack, and one I believe on a saxophone. I like to do improvisational dance and just took off. It was an unusually elevating experience. The sun, the situation in which free expression was expected. When we stopped, Phil came running up to me and said, "I followed you every minute." I told him, ," I followed you." That was a mind-blowing revelation. You could follow someone and be yourself completely. I now believe it is always that case. Even for those who are trying to lose themselves in their sacrifice to others can't stop doing it in their own way. We are always stuck being ourselves, whether we like it or not. I lived with some people in a commune I didn't get along with very well. They believed things either worked or didn't work between people; it shouldn't require any effort. Needless to say, most of these people didn't have successful marriages or any marriages. I worked out a code for myself;" I vastly prefer to do things OUR way, but if that fails, it will have to be mine." Mike said it was one of the qualities that attract him to me: I was prepared to take care of myself while still being concerned about the needs of others. He saw me as I wanted to be seen, and he helped me to become more of that person both in taking care of myself and being more generous to others. However, for better or for worse, I still have limits. The man at the funeral home said it would take about an hour to fill out all the paperwork. Yeah, it took about that because he operates on Hawaiian time and pacing. Not bad. I got macadamia nut and chocolate pralines out of the deal. Someone gave them to him, and he doesn't eat sweets. Hmmm! When I got home, I took Elsa for her evening walk and worked on getting the bed cleared so I could go to sleep in it again. I ate some of the dinner Brenda had bought for me. She got a vegetarian soup for today because of Ash Wednesday. It was the type of soup Mike and I both loved. I needed some bread. I asked Yvette if she had any. She brought up half a loaf. Nothing like bread and butter. I watched some more Inspector Lewis, took Elsa for her last walk of the day, and went to bed.