Damon proposed I take advantage of having three strong men around, Mowg, August, and himself, to do something around the house. I had Mowg unscrew my blender, filthy between the base and the container from the Juice Plus chocolate drink I mix every other day. Mike wasn’t able to get it apart. It’s lovely to have it clean for a change. I will have to remember to ask Damon to do this for me whenever he visits.
Damon and Cylin worked on taking apart Mike’s old toothbrush that I decided to adopt, which needed both a new head and new batteries. I hadn’t been able to get that open either.
Damon went through a lot of the kitchen stuff to sort out what we could get rid of. Then he and Cylin went through Mike’s old spices. Some were so old, they were clumped. They also cleaned the drawers they were in. Damon then vacuumed the lanai where the dining room table sits, and Cylin stripped the beds and started a laundry. This is more help than they ever offered before. I usually did the clean up after they left.
B. called to tell us the poor Elijah had both a strep throat and the flu. How’s that for luck? He was so sad not to join us last night. He had to be down in the shed and hear us talking and laughing up here.
I worked on my taxes in preparation for my 1:30 appointment with Miss Kitty. I redid the non-Kaiser medical expenses. I called Tiaa Cref to ask about the tax form they said they sent me by express mail. They told me it would arrive that night by UPS, too late for my appointment, but not for the April 15 deadline.
I drove Damon, Cylin, and August to the airport. I was sad to see them go. I am feeling closer to them. Hopefully, my relationship will continue to develop with all three of them. Mowgli was going to go with us to the airport, but I had other chores to do afterward, and he didn’t want to be dragged along.
My first stop was at Habitat to Humanity to drop off those checks that had their name on them. I wanted to make sure that I put them in the hands of someone I knew. I asked for Isabel, who Mike had worked with closely as a member of the board and then as President of the board. She had a terrible cold as a result of an airplane flight. She gets sick every time. We avoided a hug.
Then I went to St. Michael’s to drop off checks made out to them and the cash. I was going to give whatever cash I got to the St. Michael’s debt relief fund. Cynthia asked me how I was handling the thank you notes. Thank you notes?! You got to be kidding me. I was under enough stress. Thank you notes to everyone who sent a card or contributed money? No, no, no. I think it was Cynthia who proposed that I write a thank you to go into the bulletin. Brenda could help with it. She was sure father Lio would be good with it.
I picked up the photographic panels which Damon had made for the funeral. I asked the ladies in the office if they thought Fr. Lio would enjoy having the one of Mike illustrating his role in the church. They thought he would love it.
Fr. Lio had done the funeral mass. I was so glad it was him and not the Bishop. The Bishop is a wonderful man who respected Mike, but Fr. Lio is a wonderful man who loved and depended on Mike. A much stronger bond. If there had been any question if Lio cared about Mike, his final tribute to Mike at the end of the mass made it clear he did. For those of you who haven’t watched the funeral to the end, he was so choked up he couldn’t go on. What an incredible moment! I wanted Mike’s funeral to be a celebration of his life with an emphasis on how much he was loved. That is what the funeral was, every moment of it.
Then I drove down to the tax accountant to pay for my return. I paid the feds electronically. Done. The state owes me a small sum of money.
I went to Safeway on the way home; I returned the two jars of peanut butter I had just bought for Damon. As it wound up, I had a jar of Adam’s all-natural creamy peanut butter in the frig, and, moreover, no one used any peanut butter or any of the whole wheat English muffins I bought. I also returned a large unopened jar of peppers Mike liked. I will never use that many before they go bad. I have to keep things simple. I bought two bags of kale salad with dressing, a bag of pumpkin seeds I have been wanting to add to the salad, and 5 Hersey’s Milk Chocolate bars with whole almonds. Then I went home.
When I got home, I sent Damon and Cylin an email thanking them again for their consideration. When driving them to the airport and told them how much I valued small acts of consideration and how angry I can get when there are no acts of consideration. When people are unable to see things from my point of view at all, and I do mean at all. Wow! Keep me away from them. And they generally prefer to keep away from me.
I also told them that I spoke to Susan, the parish secretary, about the internment. I’ve decided to do it over Christmas vacation when Damon, Cylin, and August are here. Apparently, Fr. Lio will be digging the grave himself. Here in Hawaii, any sort of digging involves breaking up rock. Apparently, Lio loves to do it. I can’t think of anything better than having Lio dig Mike’s grave. Ah! No, that’s not strong enough a word. Then Cynthia told me that when he buried a woman who was a nun, he knelt down to throw the dirt into the grave. I was sitting when they told me this and dropped my head on the desk. Fr. Lio makes my heart so full.
Mowg and I chewed the fat as Mowg, and I do. We talked about big ideas. Love to talk to this boy, 42-year-old boy, 6 ft. 4’ boy, but always a boy to me. He raised the issue of male toxicity. How sad to have to think of yourself as toxic just because you were born a man. I suppose the traits that were genetically favored during our prehistoric period aren’t useful today. There are so many impulses from that early period that are not useful in the zoo life we have created for ourselves. We’re living in an environment we weren’t designed for. Yes, it’s safer. Yes, the most dangerous thing in this zoo environment is just us. I’m not recommending that we go back to the era of living in caves and using sticks and stones, but it is a tough adjustment. If there is male toxicity, can female toxicity be far behind? And, I am not referring to the age-old accusation that women tempt those poor men to be less than they should or be that they are witches, either.
I called John Coughlin to propose sending out an email to everyone in the diaconate community to thank them for whatever they have done. He said great idea, and Lina, who is a gifted wordsmith in her own right, will fix anything that has to be smoothed out. Phew!
Then I called Lio, first to thank him for everything he did to make the funeral possible. Fr. Lio is a stickler for procedure and timeliness. He cut us some slack, which I deeply appreciated. Also, I told him how happy I was that he did the mass instead of the Bishop because he knew Mike so much better, loved him, and valued him. It was a completely different vibe with Lio on the alter, one I much prefer. I was going to offer him the photograph panel but forgot.
I also asked him if I could post a thank you note to the church community in the bulletin. He said absolutely. What a relief. I said I would rather have everyone think I’m an ingrate and reject me that write all those notes.
I worked on the blog. I love sitting still in my living room writing. I love writing. Actually, I love writing the blog. Narrative writing with a few abstract thoughts thrown in is much easier than straight expository writing, which I have to do to write my book on my teaching methods.
Mowg called from downstairs and said he and the Yvette were thinking of going out to dinner, did I want to come. I am so happy to be home and quiet. Going out to dinner didn’t suit me at all. I had enough food in the house for dinner. Josh came home from work and agreed to join them. Yvette and Mowg sat in my living room while I wrote, waiting for Josh to change and join them. Mowg said goodbye because Yvette was going to drop him off at the airport after dinner.
Elsa is much more loving with me. I feel a change in our energy. I think she can only connect deeply with one person at a time.
There is something weird going on with Elsa. Since we got her, she has had some sort of eczema. The vet recommended a medication that didn’t do much. Right after Mike died, and while I remained in Honolulu for a few more days, Judy took her into Petco for a grooming. She came back without a single sore on her. We thought it might be the soap they used, and I ordered it on Amazon because Petco didn’t have it in. However, the soap didn’t come quickly, so I washed her with the old soap. The rash has never come back. I am beginning to think her rash was a reaction to Mike’s stress. He suffered terribly with the hemodialysis, particularly when he was still trying to use the fistula before he got a port put in. He was scheduled for another procedure to get peritoneal dialysis that would be gentler that he could do while he slept when pancreatitis hit. It all makes me so sad that he suffered so.
As I went to walk Elsa before dinner, there was the UPS man with an envelope in his hand. Such relief. When I got home, I did some work on the blog and watched ‘Catastrophe’ on Amazon Prime while I ate my dinner. I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa. Good night, Mike.
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