I am conjuring images of Mike spooning with me, hugging me, and kissing me. I also have been having weird dreams about being touch appropriately and inappropriately by strangers. Not too much of a surprise since I haven't been touched by another human being since the 14th, which was my last day at Bikram. Someone at Bikram always gave me a hug, so I wasn't deprived of all human touch. Those hugs weren't just for me, the poor widow; some people hugged freely.
The sister (M.) of a relative through marriage, S., came to mind today. M. suffers from frontal lobe dementia. She remained at home for a long time but finally moved to a care facility. Her niece, L., visited me and filled me in. Apparently, M's husband does not visit her in the facility. I felt grief for M. While I'm sure I care about her, I'm also sure that the grief I felt for her is also my grief. We have both been abandoned by our husbands. Hopefully, her dementia prevents her from fully understanding the cause of his absence. I know the reason for Mike's absence, at least with my conscious mind. My body-brain doesn't quite get it. Abandoned is abandoned.
Among other triggers, today is the sixty-fifth anniversary of my father's death. It seems March is not a good month for the men in my life. However, my uncle died in October, as did my mother.
I am remembering all that Mike meant to me. It is impossible to say how much he loved me, but I can describe what I felt from him. I felt loved, appreciated, respected, enjoyed, and admired. I was comfortable with his admiration because it was only one of many colors on the palate of his feelings for me. Also, I admired him. I would tell people how great he was. I wasn't even aware that I did that until one day when I was talking to neighbors, the husband said, "I hope my wife talks that way about me." I didn't feel I was bragging about my husband. I thought I was just telling people about this great person I knew. I was so proud of him.
I know one source of grief for Mike with me was that I didn't like his homilies. I would tell him repeatedly that it wasn't that I didn't like them; I didn't like being lectured to by my husband. He assumed that teacher- tone of voice. I actually didn't like the sound. Many people loved his homilies. They were deep and well-informed.
Yvette texted me this morning to say she was doing yoga in her yoga room and would not be joining me for a walk. I was feeling fine except for the bruising. I set out for my walk. I did over 6,000 steps yesterday. I planned to walk somewhat higher on the hill this morning but still not do the whole distance.
I find that my left leg is stronger, and the inner thigh muscles of that leg are not pulling as much. What do you know? The fall may have fixed something instead of doing more damage. When I was twelve, I fell coming out of an Indian sit in a gym class and landed on the left side of my tailbone. It really hurt not only when it happened, but that area remained tender for years. I couldn't sit back without triggering pain. My father took me for a medical exam. The doctor told him I had fractured my tailbone, and there was nothing to be done about it.
When I fell two days ago, I hit the right side of my tailbone. I experienced a change in the range of motion in my left hip immediately. Could I have knocked my tailbone back into alignment? Is it possible that my body problems were caused by that fall I took when I was twelve? Is it possible that a fall I took at 79 fixed the problem? None of that fixes the cartilage loss in my left hip joint. That problem is not resolved. However, if I make it through this virus threat and my money is sufficient, I will immediately make arrangements to get stem cell treatment for that hip to replace the missing cartilage.
Yesterday, as Yvette and I walked, we saw Larry, our neighbor down the block, working on his rock wall. He is building one himself. I asked him where he got the rock from. He said from his own property. He said he was coming to my property to look for more. On my walk up the hill, there is a property being excavated for construction. There is a huge pile of rocks. The workmen pulled up as I came up the hill. I asked them if my neighbor could come and get some of them. They were hesitant but asked how many. I was thinking of 10. They said okay as long as it isn't a truckload. As I walked past his house, I didn't see him out working on the wall. I planned to write him a note and put it in his mailbox.
Walking down my block returning home, I passed the home of the young man who tripped me up the other day with the dog leash. I heard a voice somewhere in the house and called out, "Hello!" A woman in a robe and unkempt hair came out of the garage area. I said, "Tell Samuel I'm okay." She had no idea what I was talking about. I would have gone home and regaled everyone with the story of what happened. I did go home and regale everyone with the story of what happened. I had to explain the circumstances. She was upset naturally and promised to pass the message on.
When talking to Damon last night, I mentioned again that Samuel had thanked me for staying calm. I didn't know what he was talking about at the time, but it occurred to me that maybe he meant that I didn't start screaming at him. He had some responsibility. His reaction time was very slow for a twenty-something. He could have grabbed the dog; he could have caught me as I went over. He did neither. He wasn't an uncaring person; he just didn't have the reflexes he needed to do the job. Besides the improvement in my left leg, I got another bonus out of this fall. I realized that it never occurred to me to yell at him. That means that I am finally nothing like my mother. Mike helped me with this. I kept saying, "It's a problem to be solved," and kept my focus on the solution instead of the cause of the problem.
Thoughts about some possible consequences of this 'shelter in place forever' practice: Increase in divorces, increase in domestic violence in general, and the murder rate among couples. This morning I thought of another increase, an increase in the number of births. If I'm right, this is going to produce another baby boom generation. I remember when we had a city-wide blackout when I was living in Brooklyn. Nine months later, obstetricians were busy, busy, busy.
There are so many changes that have happened already. Some businesses have died; others have sprung up. Old ways of social engagement have been curtailed; new ones have sprung up. My sister has tea with a friend every day on Facetime. She had dinner the other night with two friends. They all prepared the same meal and got dressed for the occasion. She says her children, their in-laws, and her husband, from whom she is separated, all plan to do Passover together.
While I miss physical touch and Mike's presence, I enjoy the solitude, even the emptiness of the house. I don't feel alone. Yvette is downstairs. She always listens for my sounds. She always knows if I'm okay. I have several people who can and do go shopping for me. My only concern is a lemon shortage. I love my fresh lemonade every evening. I'm not even as concerned about running out of chocolate.
Shivani said that I was like her. I would take chocolate over anything, even a fruit pie. Wrong! When offered a tasty fruit dessert, that always appeals to my palate.
While speaking to Judy, I completed another task that has been on my to-do list for several years. I sorted out my jewelry. I set aside some to donate to Memory Lane when we can get out a move around again. Memory Lane was one of the first shops to close. That makes sense since it is staffed by elderly volunteers. In the process, I found a pair of earrings I wanted to give Yvette. She and Mike gave them to me about 25 years ago, but I'm not wearing any jewelry these days. Why hold on to them?
Judy called. She is still feeling lousy. Her biggest problem is the loss of her sense of taste and smell. While she was under chemo, food tasted lousy, bitter, but at least there was something taste, and her sense of smell seems to have been okay. Now, there is nothing, nada. She said this is one of the symptoms of the Covid-19 virus. If that's the case, it does look like her results will come back positive. She must have gotten it when on the retreat with the youth group. Judy is a foody. As she says, if her sense of taste doesn't come back, it will be a huge cross to bear. So far, her husband is okay. Thank God.
Beau, the dog with the amputated foot, had to go to the bathroom several times last night. When he does, Judy has to put him on her lap, ride down in the electric chair to the bottom, and then back up. Last night, the chair got stuck on the way up. She had to carry a 30 lb. dog up the rest of the way. Mucho dangerous. I said she should have called her son and had him come up. She said he was asleep already and didn't want to wake him. I asked her how she thinks he would have felt if she had fallen down the stairs.
I downloaded the fifteenth volume of Louise Penny's novel Gamache series," A Better Man." Jean reminded me of my/our love of these books. What I have been enjoying so far have been nonfiction books. The McGilchrist book got a little much, but I have enjoyed all the David Brook's books I have read, Karen Armstrong's book on Mohammad, and the book on Jung.
Reading the book reminded me of Jean; I called. As with everyone, we compared notes on the virus spread. The eastern side of New Jersey is marked bright red, meaning the spread there is as bad as in NYC. On the other hand, the western half is relatively clear. Jean said there were no cases in Princeton yet. She and John were talking about going out shopping. Since Jean is in her late 70s and John in his 80s, and they both have health issues, I suggested they ask someone else to do their shopping for them.
Lay down on my sofa/anti-gravity chair to read. I was able to do something I haven't been able to do in years. I was able to raise my left leg and cross it over the right using the muscles of my left leg instead of slipping the right leg under the left and hauling the left leg up. Wow! There is no question my left leg is better.
I took Elsa for a short walk tonight. It had been a cold, gloomy day with a period of intense downpour. As we went out for that walk, it was still drizzling. We headed home quickly.
A quick dinner for Elsa and for me. I listened to my favorite evening, NPR shows, "Says You," and "Hidden Brain." Hidden Brain covered an analysis of the way the US dealt with the Spanish flu. Very interesting. Denial was the US's primary weapon back then because politicians didn't want the population distracted from the war effort.
No comments:
Post a Comment