I woke up with dark feelings, feelings of not being loveable or likable, thoughts of Mike's body breaking down in the hospital, and rot setting in. Mike would always be there to comfort me when dark thoughts pursued me.
I went to Bikram and had another insight. If I push the inner side of my toes into the floor while lying on my stomach, it activates my legs' rigid muscles. This is great. Another way of reaching these damaged muscles. So exciting. So much to discover about how the body works.
Karin talked to me about her concern that I'm keeping busy to avoid thinking/ realizing that Mike is gone. I only look busy. Today, I came home from Bikram, washed my clothes, made my morning soup drink, and went to sleep. I slept for 5 hours. I think I look busy because I write everything I've done short of how many times I've gone to the bathroom. There's an upside to this. One of my readers realizes that there is always a lot to do and that she has a routine too. It's helping people become more aware of their own daily routine and how much they do. I'm big on mindfulness. This is one reason the blog helps me. When I find myself observing what I do every minute of the day, it keeps me focused on the moment.
Am I grieving Mike? Well, as I've written before, I'm clearly in withdrawal from a 45-year habit of mind, body, and spirit. That would be true even if I didn't love him to bits and pieces. I have moments of sadness. Yvette said she is sad about the moments she won't share with Mike in the future. I think that is what I miss the most too. I dread reading a journal of his and finding some thoughts I cannot ask him about to understand him better.
I have no deep regrets about what I did when he as alive. There are no unexpressed thoughts or feelings. I regret that I will become someone who would have been more of what he would have liked me to be. That would always be true. There would never be a point in our lives when we were not works in progress.
I miss Mike when I think of him smiling in general when something delighted him and specifically when he smiled in delight at me. But some of that I still have with me. When I find I miss his living presence in my life, I imagine that wonderful hug and kiss, which was worth everything to me, and it fills my chest with love. I know that if he can be with me as I adjust, he is. I talk to him. It's weird. I don't know what we did with each other, but I do know that I loved his presence. Since I feel that presence still, there's not much to miss.
I am working on projects he didn't' finish, and he wanted to be done after he died, i.e., getting his 3,000 books to a seminary and getting his book published.
Damon called with August's SS #, which I need to make him a beneficiary of Mike's retirement fund. Seems weird to me. Does this retirement benefit go on in perpetuity? Will his great-grandchildren be entitled to the benefits? I'm just grateful that I am. I'm not going to worry about what the state of New Jersey is doing too.
I had a wonderful conversation with Damon. I suspected that he might be reluctant to call because he's so busy and doesn't want to get involved in an hour-long conversation. I don't blame him. I suggested that we set a time limit for each conversation. I would prefer short ones to none. I am perfectly happy to set the timer on my phone to 15 minutes and hang up when the bell goes off. He told me that he sometimes thinks of calling when he's driving but figured it would be only a short one. He said he should work on taking advantage of those moments more.
In the middle of the conversation, he was yelling at August to get to work memorizing a poem for school. Apparently, the kid had already written the required paper on it but hadn't memorized it. He as sitting there playing on his computer instead. I got involved. He had to learn it to show me. I had the poem in front of me and could cue him by giving him the first sound in a word or the word. I also shared some memorization tricks I knew. I can now remember the meaning of the poem, but not the words. Too old to learn new poems. But I did enjoy working with it.
I had never heard of the poet, but the title is "Idea 61" sounded like a contemporary title if there ever was one, but the language was from another century altogether. As it winds up, Michael Drayton was a year before Shakespeare. What do you know? I studied English Literature in grad school and never heard of the guy. I enjoyed the poem and working with August and Damon.
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen on either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, passion speechless lies;
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes- -
Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over
From death to life thou might' st him yet recover.
I love the humor from this period. I remember reading one of Marvel's in grad school and similarly enjoying it. August didn't pick this poem. I doubt he ever heard of it before it was assigned in school. I suffer from the end of a relationship, but there is no end of passion here. And if I could "him yet recover," I would in a flash.
Damon talked about how he felt that Mike was watching over him. I told him that I felt the same way and assured him that if it was possible, he was. I shared some of the conversations I've had with Mike. Some of them are pretty funny.
I talked somewhat about my grieving process. Damon said I always was an independent person. I have to agree. My ego was never entwined with Mike's. If people complimented him, I didn't say thank you, I agreed. His excellence wasn't a reflection on me. It may have been a reflection of my good taste, I may have had some influence in making him a better person, but he was what he was, a wonderful man on his own. Perfect no, absolutely not. A work in progress with the best possible intentions. A willingness to make changes. And a capacity for joy and delight and free expression of his love, which I will cherish for the rest of my life. I feel that joy and delight with his son and me still. "Damon and I are both grateful for your presence, Mike. Stick around as long as you can. But leave when you must."
I walked Elsa and talked to Judy as we went. She is feeling lousy. She can't eat; everything tastes terrible. She's tired all the time. She had to get off the phone because Howard had prepared something for her to eat. I am so glad she has people around her who can take care of her.
Since I only finished my breakfast at around 6 pm, I wasn't very hungry for dinner. I still made myself a salad, three small slices of buttered multigrain baguette, and a limeade. I took all my pills. I started retaking two blood pressure pills. My blood pressure can be under 120/80, but then again, it can be 154/ 85. There's nothing consistent. It's time I go see my doctor.
Instead of watching TV tonight during dinner, I sat on the lanai as I ate and started the David Brooks book, The Second Mountain.. I walked Elsa before going to bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa, Goodnight, Mike.
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Musings: I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.
I found Brook's book disappointing! I find his reasoning so simplistic. It's not that thinking of others is a bad thing. But again, it's one extreme versus another with no subtly of thought. There are those for who thinking of others is a self-center ego trip and the first mountain. These folks are perfectly capable of sacrificing others to look like they are sacrificing or heroic themselves. There is no simple formula. 'By their fruits shall you know them' is still the best measure.
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