When I came home after Bikram, I had plans to garden. Fortunately, I set the alarm for 11 to remind me of my luncheon date with the girls. Of course, I had forgotten and made other plans to be at home and write, read, and garden. I'm impossible when it comes to deviating from my domestic routine. Love being at home. I sent out two blog entries and worked on a third while I drank my morning soup.
I did get some garden work done. I finally emptied a Home Depot pail filled with rocks that have been sitting in the front yard, waiting for me to use them to create an edge for the last six months. I was going just to empty the pail but started laying the rocks out. I thought it was going to be a big deal; I was going to have to dig an edge before laying the stones. There may have been a ledge there initially, but laying them out on the ground as it was just fine. I picked up a few small ground cover stones to see if I could get a match at Home Depot.
When the alarm went off, I showered to get ready for my lunch date. We were to meet at the 12-noon. Vicki Farley was at mass too. Zola, Jacquie, Vicki, and I all walked out together. Zola asked Vicki if she would like to join us. There was no discussion about where to eat, Zola and Vicki walked ahead, and Jacquie and I trailed behind at a distance, keeping an eye on them. We figured out they were heading for the Kona Inn. The Inn dining room is open-air, as are many restaurants in Hawaii. We were given a table by the rail overlooking a green lawn edged by the Pacific Ocean.
I ordered a plain hamburger. I got some meat in me. I was wondering if I would be able to eat the whole thing. I had no trouble. Both Zola and Jacquie ordered hamburgers, too. Vicki went with a tuna melt and fries. I copped a few of those fries, but less than I usually would. It was an excellent opportunity to get to know these ladies better, particularly Jacquie. The plan was for each of us to pay for our own meals. Zola grabbed the check, despite our protests, and the rest of us paid the tip. She promised she wouldn't do that again.
I was tired and anxious to get home. I got home around 2:30 pm; I went down for a nap
and woke up again tired at 6 pm, still feeling tired. That's not normal for me. I couldn't figure out why I was so knocked out. As I walked Elsa, I allowed my mind to wander. What came to mind was Vicki's comment that today was the 18-month anniversary of her husband's death. I think somewhere in my nonconscious mind, it registered that Mike would not be coming home- ever; I would be facing an 18-month anniversary.
I knew Vicki's husband had died relatively recently. They had been together for 23 years. She processed and continues processing her grief by walking, miles and miles and miles and miles every day. I exercise daily, walking, and doing Bikram 6 days a week, but sleeping is my favorite way of dealing with the weight of my grief.
I have been experiencing more personal grief. When Mike first died, my grief was for all those he touched and was still touching because he had so much to offer. My other grief was for Mike because he loved his life here in Hawaii and wouldn't be able to continue enjoying it. What a loss! But, now there is my third grief; it's for my loss. Mike loved me so much. He told me he loved me and that I was beautiful every day. He radiated his love for me. And, he allowed me to love him back in the same way. He loved that I was a loving, affectionate person.
I came across a line in Brooks's book The Second Mountain about how Frankel achieved his high state of mind in the concentration camp. Frankel focused on sending love to his wife. The more he thought of telling her he loved her, of sending her love, the more peaceful he became. He realized that he controlled his own mental state regardless of his circumstances.
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Musings
Brooks spent a lot of time talking about the qualities that make for a good marriage. Respecting the other's point of view and the ability to talk things out. Reading his description made me sad because that's what Mike and I had.
I differ from Brooks when he says that you always put your partner before yourself. I think you should see yourself and your partner as equals, where both sets of needs have to be taken into consideration. Making it your job to put your partner's needs before your own does not sound right to me.
I have a couple of almost comical moments in my marriage to Mike, which exemplified what I think. Mike was a person who needed neatness and order. He was uncomfortable with chaos. One day within the first 20 years of our marriage, he came up to me and said, "I like things neat; you don't. Being neat is better than being messy; therefore, you should be neat as I am." I said, "This is a marriage. I have as much right to my neurotic need for disorder as you have to your neurotic need for order." Now that doesn't mean that I didn't strive to be more orderly both because it was his need and because I understood that my need for disorder was neurotic and, therefore, not the best for me either. Mike's needs served as extra motivation. It was a slow, laborious process on my part. I never conquered it entirely, but my area of messiness became smaller and smaller.
On the other hand, my messiness allowed Mike to deal with his neurotic fear of chaos. It gave him an opportunity to realize that life could go on smoothly even if there was some disorder. He didn't have more of a right to his needs than I did to mine. He couldn't just tell me that his way of doing something was superior to mine and bully me into doing it his way. Instead, I responded to his needing order and made adjustments to his needs as he made adjustments to mine because I cared about him and respected his needs, even if they were neurotic. I had to search for the narrow way between his needs and my own. I believe it was healing for him to deal with my disorder, which, while it was ever-present, was never all-consuming.
In a second story, Mike came up to me one day, around the same point in our marriage, and said, "I do all the cooking. That's not fair. You should do some of the cooking." Now, I hate cooking. I would just as readily not eat at all if I have to cook. It's bad. But I went to work. A friend had recommended the Fit for Life cookbook, which was all the rage at the time. I started cooking vegetarian meals. I hated every minute of it.
Mike said, "Hey, you're not supposed to cook vegetarian meals. You're supposed to cook what I want to eat. "I said, "If I'm cooking, I'm cooking what I want to eat."
A few days later, he came up to me again and said, "I've been thinking about it. When I cook, you do the dishes. When you cook, you do the dishes. That's not fair. From now on, I'll do all the cooking, and you do all the dishes." DEAL! That's what we had been doing before, and it suited me very nicely. I love doing dishes; and, Mike loved cooking. We were a match made in heaven.
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