Sunday, August 7, 2022

 Sunday, August 7, 2022  

 

  When I ran into my walking buddy Carol, she asked if it rained. The streets were still wet, and there was standing water. It poured so intensely last night that it woke me from a sound sleep. I thought I heard a loud machine. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Then I fell asleep again. I wouldn't have remembered the incident if Carol had asked about the rain.

  Elsa is very bright. She knows the walking schedule. She knows when we're driving up to Paulette's to get water. When she wants to go for a walk, she's at the door waiting. She knows we walk before she eats, both in the morning and at night. I get the leash and stand by the door. What does Miss Elsa do? She stands in the middle of the kitchen, insisting she is fed first. I have to go to her to put on her leash. She is too bright for me.

  I went to church this morning for the first time in a long while. I still wear my mask and sit outside on the lanai to avoid contagion. As the Mass began, I felt Mike's presence. He was so happy I was in church. The Catholic religion meant a great deal to him. I was so happy he found a belief that joyfully shaped his life. It doesn't have as much meaning for me. It did once.

  My attraction to the Catholic church had nothing to do with Mike. It started when I was twelve. My family took a trip to Quebec and a side trip to St. Anne du Beaupre, a healing shrine. In 1953, the walls were hung with crutches. I found it interesting, even moving. 

   My atheistic father revealed his hidden need to believe when we got home. The warts on my fingers had mysteriously disappeared. My father said he had lit a candle in the church. It wasn't just the coincidence that impacted me; it was the impact it had on my dad. It was contagious.  

   The irony is that my attachment to the church waned once Mike converted. I'm prepared to believe I was led to Catholicism to support Mike's conversion. We only met when we were thirty-two. He made fun of my spirituality when we met. Ha Ha, on him.

   A family of five sat on the chairs near me during the Mass. I was struck by how good-looking the man was. I rarely have that kind of reaction. I wasn't attracted to him," I just thought he was stunning. The rest of the family was a pleasure to look at, too, but nothing compared to him. After the Mass, he approached me and said, "Miss Betty? Do you remember me?" Nope. "I did landscaping at your house." I remembered we used a company called the Golden Tree before we got our current company. Yes. It was many years ago. He said I hadn't changed at all. Sweet. Yes, he knew Mike had died. Speaking to him face to face, I could see this was a man who had no investment in his looks. His investment was in his family.  

   When Mass was over, I went to speak to Fr. Lio and Sandor. I told Fr. Lio that I had picked up the gravestones from the port. Did he know how to attach them to the cement pillows? "Just let me know when you're ready. I get epoxy and take care of it." I was spared most of the expenses of Mike's post-death events: the funeral, the after-funeral meal, the gravesites, and the foundational gravesite slab were all provided by the church. I paid for the two granite slabs, the engraving, the two cement pillows, and the shipping costs to get the granite slabs to Oahu to the engraver; no one on the Big Island did it. The biggest expense was the crating for shipping the granite slabs to Oahu from Kona Trans. They had a minimum fee of $400. They lowered it to $250 because I had asked for an estimate, which they didn't give me. If I had heard $400, I would have known something was wrong. They didn't do little jobs. I should have gone to a frame shop for this job. Someone directed me to Kona Trans without realizing the consequences.

   Sandor wasn't at church today. I was immediately worried. There are health issues he and his wife are dealing with. But all was okay. He was on Oahu for a deacon retreat. Widowed deacon wives are welcome at these annual retreats. I didn't get one because I made it clear that I wouldn't come. For many of the wives, this became an important community. I felt out of place at first. I was never the devoted Catholic they were. Some of these wives want their husbands to be ordained more for status than religious reasons. I was involved to support Mike.  

    Over time, I connected with some deacons and their wives. It was to them I reached out when Mike went to the ICU the first time. I called John, the director of the deacon training program, and said, "I can't be alone." Within minutes, someone was at my side. I didn't even know who she was. John had called Lina, who lived near the hospital. She stayed by my side until John and his wife Kathy arrived. They stayed with me until Damon, my stepson, and Jean, Mike's first wife, arrived. I don't know how I would have coped with the situation if I hadn't had the support of that community. If one of you is thinking, "Why couldn't she call upon the members of my church?" We lived on the Big Island; the hospital was Oahu. You can see the problem.

  I had the bowl Paulette had packed with the freshly cut mango in the car. I planned to return it to her at the end of Mass. I didn't see her, and I was exhausted. I figured I'd give it to them the next time I drove up there for water. I was heading to my door after plugging the car in when Paulette pulled into the driveway. I handed her the bowl and went in for a three-hour nap. Church exhausts me. 

  Unless I missed it altogether, I was getting the Wordle puzzle on the third or fourth try. I devised a strategy that works for me. I have my three starter words: ready, stomp, and quick. I don't put in the third if I get four letters with the first two trial words. I missed coyly the other day because I was too lazy to use my method. I put down five blank lines for each letter and write one of the letters in every possible space. It allows me to see possible combinations. Some people like to do it in their heads. I can't do that, and I like my method. It's fun.

   Cylin gave August and Damon their Kua Bay T-shirts today for their birthdays. August said he liked it. Cylin and Damon may have told him to fake it. I was surprised. He just turned nineteen, too sophisticated for father/son matching shirts. 

   I called August to sing happy birthday to him in the Ross way – off-key. He was very conversant. I enjoyed talking to him. I asked him if he would consider calling once a week. That would be great. Then, he announced, "My dad wants to talk to me," and abruptly hung up. I texted him instructions on how to end a conversation before the other person seemed ready. My sister gave me explicit instructions. I needed them. "Don't sound enthusiastic and say "okay," in a languid way." It's partly a 'hint,' but it also impacts the other person's unconscious mind.

   Judy and Paulette got a $600 water bill instead of the usual $200. They called the water company. They told them to look for a leak. They couldn't find the water meter. Ours is at the property line on the street side. Walking up and down the block, I could only find six meters set up as ours was. I have no idea why the difference. Many of the houses were built at the same time. Mei and Peter live in one of those houses, as do Adam and Jazzy. Our house does not follow that model. It was curious that we have different systems of delivery.