I didn't go to Bikram today because Shivani wanted to go to the beach again before she left. I got up shortly after 7. I headed out on my morning walk north on Nehiwa St. again to avoid the four wild dogs rushing poor Elsa. She had other ideas. She led me around the block. We had to bypass their house on our way back. There were no problems. Amanda and Brian must have been home again. There were small things to pick up, mostly cigarette butts. However, right across from my driveway, someone threw food packaging right out of their car window. Love it when people do that. There was a Star Bucks bag that looked like it might be holding a cookie. I was tempted and did peek, but decided against checking it out too closely. Enough is enough.
I used the morning to make phone calls. Since there were some emails from Raymond James about the movement of money from joint accounts to my individual and from the non-trust accounts and then to the trust accounts. I got an exact tally of how much money I have currently, not counting the incoming money. I should be just fine. Boy, do I have it easy. I think of how bad it could be for people. I am so lucky. All I have to deal with is missing Mike.
That missing is becoming more pronounced as time passes. My identity is intact. My identity was never primarily as Mike's wife. My financial well-being is intact, more than adequate. I can take care of myself- at least for now. We'll see. I feel a creeping depression. I think of it as a withdrawal from something I was habituated to if not addicted to. Not seeing his joy and delight makes me the saddest. He was almost childlike in his ability to experience positive emotions. My mom was like that, too. She had a great capacity for joy. Both Mike and my mom were Scorpios. Maybe it is a trait of their sign. Her capacity for joy made her not only bearable but loveable. Mike was wonderful even when he wasn't joyful; that he could experience delight in his life made him even more loveable. Mike could be silly, and we could be silly together. Hmmm! I used to say, "I love you so much, it's silly." It almost felt silly, ridiculous for an old woman like me to be so madly in love -with her husband no less. I would say that my love for him grew and grew over the years.
The passion I felt at the end of his life wasn't there in the beginning. In the beginning, I went on the inner knowledge of it being just right. For those of you who are familiar with coin phones, remember the sound the coin made as it connected? Remember the sound it made when it didn't? You knew when the coin fall was connected. When it didn't, we had to pull a lever and release it. In the same sense, I knew that Mike was right. It was just a deep inner knowledge of rightness. Followed by the additional knowledge that I could live with what he was at that moment for the rest of my life. Of course, that didn't wind up being true. If I were to meet that Mike now, that arrogant know-it-all, I doubt very much I could be as accepting of that person. But then again, I've been spoiled.
I called Juice Plus and finally got through to place my order. Then I called Social Security to find out about March's payment. I told them that the SS office that contacted me about the returned March payment still hadn't gotten back to me, and I was concerned that something got lost. The agent told me that the SS office was working on the March payment, and I would get a letter from them before it was sent out. He also told me that my regular payments had been approved and I should be receiving the letter confirming that today or tomorrow.
While I was on the phone, Shivani came out of the bedroom to tell me that she had the wrong departure time. She thought it was at 2:30pm. No, rather, it was 12:30. She was going to have to leave at 10:30. Good thing I stayed home. I got to spend some time with her and Sidney before they left and got to make all those phone calls to the east coast before the offices closed.
When Shivani and Sidney left, I sat and played FreeCell for a while. I am feeling more blah. I worked on following my breathing and staying focused on the immediate. If I move slowly and intentionally, I can keep going. God, I miss him. I spoke about his capacity for delight in general, I have also mentioned that he expressed that delight in me. He loved me, and he made me feel loved. God was I ever lucky to have had him, and I had him for 45 years.
As Shivani left, she said there was some sand in the bedroom. That got me up and vacuuming. I found some sand and lots of dead bugs. I hadn't vacuumed before she came. I would never do that with Damon. He would notice every bit of dirt. Love that boy; I really do, I think more so with time. That was true before Mike died. Somewhere along the line, we became heart connected in a deeper way. It means a lot to me.
After I vacuumed, I worked on the day's notes for the blog. I hadn't sent one out yesterday. I was just too busy.
I had a healing client on the phone at 4 pm. He is responding well to what I have to offer. He says it's the best therapy he's had. That makes me feel like a million bucks. Feeling competent and useful is the best, besides being loved and delighted in. That's gone.
There was another torrential downpour in the afternoon. Fortunately, it stopped in time for me to walk Elsa.
I came home, did a little work on the blog, and played Free Cell. Thank God I have something to do, but I feel like doing nothing right now. I suppose I will just have to go through this. Being married for 45 years becomes a mental and physical habit. Changing the mental habit is comparatively easy. The physical habit, how you move with each other, where and how you sit with each other, where you sleep in the bed, how you negotiate the use of the items you share, when you do things with each other or with each other, oh, so many, many things that have been developed over the years and become stronger, more engrained, with each year. When does a habit become an addiction? Both involve withdrawal when you give them up/lose them. I am thinking there are two types of grief, at least. One is when you had an expectation and were disappointed. The other is when you lose something habitual. One can be an isolated incident; the other is the loss of your sense of self. You feel differently in the new circumstances. The terrain is unfamiliar. What do I do in this new world? How do I navigate.?
Yvette came up to say goodnight. I told her about the correspondence with Tom Wnuk and his saying that there are more incidences of pancreatitis. He believes this increase in rates of pancreatitis is due to increased use of medication and GMOs. Yvette remembered that Mike commented that he didn't care what the adverse side effects of the medication he took, he couldn't live without it. He was referring to his anti-anxiety meds. He was on an exceptionally high dosage. He tried talk-therapy and healing but never felt that he successfully overcome his chronic anxiety. He was finally diagnosed with PTSD. This was a result of the persecution his family feared during the McCarthy era and the trauma he experienced daily because of his mother's hysterical reaction to just about everything, according to him. I think his sister experienced the situation differently.
I walked Elsa. We're back to our usual route, turning right when coming out of the driveway. It seemed we were oaky when passing Brian and Amanda's house. The dogs are contained again. I came home, had dinner, and cataloged more books. I walked Elsa again before going to bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa, Goodnight, Mike.
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