Thank God for Bikram. It provides me with so much. It is a community. I know the names of many students in the class and enjoy a loose social connection with them. Then I can follow my instincts without any stress during the class. I stick to the basic idea of each asana, it’s just that I work to make small changes instead of going full bore. Also, this studio allows me to use a walker as support. And finally, focusing on the minute details of my own body is a form of meditation that helps me center. Otherwise, I think I would be overwhelmed with my loss of Mike.
I have had the ideal circumstances for sustaining myself with this loss. I couldn’t be luckier. When he was alive, I maintained some sense of independence without sacrificing intimacy. And then, Mike has helped me to grow as a person and become stronger, more self-confident.. He loved it when he saw me become better at something. He never tried to suppress me in any way. Well, does that mean he was a perfect angel? Of course, not. As I told my niece, if 70% of a marriage is good, that is an ideal marriage; well, as good as it gets while we’re still in human form.
I have financial security. Well, as secure as anyone can be today. When my security goes, it will be the end of life as we know it for all of us. It will mean a crash of the economy, leaving us competing with Venezuela for total devastation or being at war. We, out here in Hawaii, maybe hit sooner than others, but no one will be far behind. It will have nothing to do with the loss of my dear husband.
Living in Hawaii is an unbelievable blessing. It isn’t called the Aloha state for no reason. People really are friendlier. If he had died while I was in Ohio, I would have had no one who would reach out to me regularly; I would not have had community the way I do here.
Also, my home, my lovely home. My main living area is a screened-in porch with a view of the Pacific Ocean about 3 miles away as the crow flies. I’m not in a house coffin, closed in from the outside world, from nature.
My goddaughter, Yvette, and her husband live downstairs. She has been committed to caring for Mike and me in our old age since she was 15. Her commitment has never wavered. I have made some friends here that are invaluable to me. Most of these folks come to me through the church and through Mike. They have remained my friends even though Mike is no longer around.
Family members and friends have upped their commitment to me. Four are calling me weekly. Miraculously, our relationships are becoming richer with more contact. It could have gone any of several ways, better is not guaranteed.
I had five weeks with Mike in the hospital before he died, where I was able to tell him over and over and over and over how much I loved him and just be there for him. The memory of those five weeks is bittersweet. I don’t have to deal with a home where he lay sick for a year or more and then – bam! Nothing. Emptiness.
I still have to deal with emptiness, but mine is not cataclysmic. It’s subtle and hard to grasp. I’m a strong independent person; I’m good on my own. I don’t miss Mike’s strength or knowledge. I miss his presence, his constant presence in every moment of my life, whether he was near me or not. I am trying to put into words how I feel this loss, this difference. It’s like there’s a layer of air that always used to cloak me, which is thinning out and will be gone someday.
I think everyone feels that difference when they lose a long term relationship. In some cases, it is probably a blessing. When you have a partner who gives you more criticism than kindness and more contempt than love, what a relief it must be to rid yourself of that cloak. But Mike was a place of complete safety for me. Again, does that mean that he never criticized and never got frustrated with me? No, course not. He was human, and so was I. It just means that he always intended kindness, even when he failed. And, he succeeded more than he failed. I feel that I may have lost the cloak he provided me with, but I have changed and become more comfortable within myself for having had the opportunity to wear it for the last 45 years.
What I miss most about Mike is his love for me. When he smiled at me, he just radiated with love. I felt the same way about him. Yes, it is that smile I miss the most, and his hugs and kisses. His kiss was definitely on my list as one of the best things in life.
I went to the farewell dinner for one of the priests who is being reassigned. Lovely Hispanic man, much loved by the parish. I was surprised that there weren’t more Hispanics at the dinner. I was expecting it to be jammed. But I would say it was half haoles, like me, and half Hispanics. The food was delicious. The company was good. I felt Mike with me, delighted that I had gone. Not just because it was good for me, but he was glad I was supporting Fr. Diego and the church.
Another night when my dress didn’t slip off my left shoulder. This is amazing. This is after a lifetime of battling this problem. Bam! Gone! Just one simple exercise. Of course not. It is one simple exercise after years and years of working on straightening out my spine. It is a case of the six-year-old who opens the jar after all the adults have had a try.
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