Sunday, March 14, 2021

 Sunday, March 14, 2021

 

            I had another bad night's sleep, tormented thoughts, struggling with people. Also, my left leg hurt in a new way after lying on that side. New pain is not necessarily bad; static, unchanging pain gets that award. New pain may be a step in the process. This pain is caused by a pinched nerve somewhere along the line. 

            When I finally got up, it was 7:30, a good two hours later than I usually get up. Between the warming days and the late hour, it was warm enough to take a shower before I did anything else. I have a heating unit in my bathroom ceiling, which takes off some of the sting out of the cold.

            I did some work on the updates, another short walk, and then got to work on my taxes. I already organized my donations and called Kaiser to get the totals for my premiums and services. I had the contributions recorded in an Office document. I copied the amounts on a separate piece of paper, making them easy to copy when I entered them into an Excel document. That piece of paper disappeared, a letter from the IRS acknowledging receipt of Mike's half of the Pandemic relief check. I saw it that morning. I hadn't moved anything from the table I was working on or thrown anything out. Yes, I checked the garbage. Any suggestions?

            I was feeling lousy this morning, lousy enough to consider the possibility I was physically sick. But no, it's only full-on grief. 

            At 1 pm, I had the second session with the Awareness Keys for Exceptional Living. This is run by Yoga Farms Ithaca, some prospering yoga studio in upstate New York. The price for participating was $126, although they did it on a donation basis if you couldn't afford the recommended price. I counted the participants. It was close to 100. Not bad for an hour and a half for 12 Sundays in a row.  

            Courses like this are like AA meetings; you can always hear something new or something old in a new way. It was also a change of pace from my usual routine. Can't we all use that now? The presenter is a lovely lithe cheerful forty-year-old. She giggles a lot. She had a good energy to bring into my life. Besides that, hmm. 

            For starters, I don't agree with her position on human nature. She believes we are basically good, wonderous. When we get in touch with our true nature, we are wonderful, kind, loving, wise people. To me, love feels like oxytocin. There is a dark side to that chemical. It is behind genocides because it is driven by a deep love for our own.  

            She teaches to let the heart rule. Another shibboleth I don't hold with. I have a friend in Ohio who visits her aunt in a nursing home. This aunt is an evangelical Christian who believes that God has sent Trump and is doing His will. When my friend points out the flaws in his character, her aunt doesn't argue with her. Instead, she  directs my friend to "listen to your heart." Can we conclude that anyone who doesn't believe Trump is an emissary of God is not listening to their heart? Are we all on board with that?

            The presenter led a mediation. Her directions were to remember our soul vow word and then imagine all the participants sitting in a single location, joining hands and hearts. It was a lovely visualization, but I was gone with my soul vow word, happy. Last week she had us conjure an image that exemplified that word. What came to my mind was a Thanksgiving over twenty years ago.  

            We had twenty-four people for dinner. It was more family than we ever had had before. Damon invited the woman he was dating at the time, and she brought two friends. There was a scene that was striking for me. A family member wasn't acting according to code, and I thought it was funny in a loving way. My image included Mike in the kitchen, captain of the event, getting the food out. The word that I associated with the event was 'belonging.' It was a happy image; Mike was there helped to create that world. I love the world Mike, and I created together. 

            We went to breakout rooms after that group visualizations in which I did not connect with the other participants. There were only four of us. One woman was not in a position to talk, another had a demanding three-year-old to deal with, and then there was me. I was asked if I wanted to share. I told them I was in a bad space and didn't want to affect others' experiences. I said I was dealing with the second anniversary of my husband's death. I started crying but suppressed it. I could easily have sat there and sobbed for several minutes. One of the women helpfully expressed condolences, but nothing lifted the gloom.

            When we came out of the breakout rooms, I was exhausted. I switched off my video access, went to the bathroom, and lay down on the sofa to let what would happen happen. The presenter talked about each day as if it was our only day on earth. I lived somewhat that way since I was in my late teens.

            From ages 13-15, I had lost one male member of the family per year. Now, three of them were grandparents or of that generation. The fourth was my dad. A few years later, another relative died of cancer, Gerda Luft. My aunt Maggie had visited her in the hospital towards the end. Gerda said, "I can't die; I've never lived." Wow! Wow! That did it for me. I lived as if each day could be my last. I'm not sorry for that impact, but it did leave me living at a somewhat hysterical pitch until I learned to tone it down when I was middle-aged.

            I'm inclined to believe that some of my emotional breakdown that day was caused by receiving the vaccine. No, the chemical of the shot didn't cause this. The vaccine signals the end of a period of stress. I don't have to worry about getting the virus myself. It also holds the possibility that we may end this year of living carefully and get back to normal.

            I know that people often function routinely under actual stress and experience a breakdown once that pressure is relieved. It took me a year and a half to start dealing with that experience while Mike was in the hospital for those five weeks. I don't remember thinking I was doing something hard at the time. I just did what I had to do; there was no question that I would do that.

            Given my behavior when I decided to let Mike go, there is a possibility the medical staff thought I was out of my fucking mind. Damon had said earlier that day that he was ready to let Mike go. That put the full burden for taking him off life support on my shoulders. Is anyone interested in having the full responsibility of the decision to allow a loved one to live or die on their shoulders? Fortunately, Mike was able to communicate that he wanted to die. Once I heard that, I ran out of his ICU room into the open area of the floor and yelled, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow at 2 pm." I never spoke to anyone specific person. I was in a state of semi-hysteria, announcing the best news ever. Shortly after returning to the room, the palliative care team nurse was at my side. I share the 'good news' with her. She left. I have no idea what she thought. I can't believe this is the only time she saw a reaction like that. As they say, everyone deals with grief differently. My joy was in being relieved of the responsibility for the decision to pull the plug. It should be clear that the whole family would have pushed me should I have balked. I wouldn't have had to make the decision alone. 

            I woke up from my nap to hear someone say, "Betty must not be on anymore. My picture was up, and the final breakout room was in session. I said nothing and went back to sleep. I went for a short walk after I got up. I felt better. I think that little bit of sobbing helped, and the outreach of one of the women in the breakout room was also helpful. Not everyone can be a source of comfort for me, even people who deeply care about me. I am struck by how Mike is not replaceable. I honed my personality to his over 45 years. I'm keyed to him. Others are not good substitutes, no matter how much they love me or how much they care. 

            I had a riotous phone conversation with a relative tonight. I told him I was purchasing a reel lawnmower. He said gas or electric. I said neither. It took him a minute to comprehend what I was saying. "OMG! I remember pushing one of those when I was a kid. They are murder to work with."