Sunday, March 19, 2023

 Sunday, March 19, 2023

I was up by four am. I did my in-bed exercises and dozed until the alarm went off at 6. Then I got up promptly. On my morning walk, I went up to the intersection near the top of Kukuna, about five hundred feet up the mountain from us. The top abuts undeveloped land. We still have tons of that on the island. We don't have the infrastructure to support all those houses that could cover that land. We're an island. We have limited resources. I was at over 4,000 steps by the time I got home.

  I promptly put on my green tea face mask. It's advertised as removing blackheads. The internet ad is impressive. YouTube videos about the product call it a scam. The mask doesn't remove blackheads as the ad promises, but my skin feels smoother.

   I had been using a vitamin C mask as recommended by a friend. I bought food-grade Vit. C granules and pulverized them in my coffee grinder. I added water and made a paste. My face felt scaly. I thought it was because of my age. I wondered why it works for some people. Oh, yeah. I remember my friend saying she applied a high-quality face cream after applying the mask. She also used the Vit C face mask twice a day. I didn't do either. I love the green tea face mask. I don't have a lot of blackheads, but I do have big pores that fill up. The face mask keeps that accumulation at bay. I also love putting it on. My skin feels smooth again.

  I showered and was ready for church before eight-thirty, my usual departure time for the nine a.m. mass. I found a space in the church parking lot right by the entrance to the cemetery. Judy and I were planning to stop by and see the final gravestone product.

  I have been wrestling with what feels like frustration and maybe anger. Today, I accepted it as grief, grief about the loss of Michael, particularly in light of the relationship stresses I now experience. God, I miss that man. I had a wonderful source of comfort. I faced some of that grief during mass. It calmed me.

  Immediately after mass, I looked for Gail. I left a message with the parish office asking her to call me. When she saw me approaching, she apologized. She said she got a message to call Betsy Ross. She thought it was a joke. She had thrown my number away when she figured out it was me.

 I needed her help. I had filled out a form offering tutoring for the silent church auction. Afterward, I realized my offer wasn't very attractive. I just said tutoring at fifty dollars an hour. It would be better if I said ten half-hour sessions at twenty-five dollars per session or less if it would make the offer more attractive.

  Gail and her husband organized this golf tournament, which was a fundraiser for the church with another couple. It is probably the husband of the other couple who I should be speaking to, but I need to avoid him. When I volunteered last year, he yelled at me for being in the wrong place. As it wound up, I was doing what people had done for years. Hoping to make him feel better about his loss of composure, I said something about him being cranky because he was under stress. He said, "You ask too many questions." That made an already bizarre situation off the charts. I asked questions to make sure I had the directions right. I hadn't challenged him in any way. In my experience, someone who thinks I ask too many questions is someone I have to avoid like the plague. They have taken an irrational dislike of me, sometimes before I've said a word. I told Gail I couldn't deal with the guy. Apparently, he has a reputation for being snappy and irritable. I've made it plain to both members of the couple that I want to avoid them by turning my back as they approach. I want nothing to do with them. I am not putting myself in harm's way to be polite.

  After speaking to Gail, I placed myself at the church entrance and watched for Judy and Paulette. We were going to check out the finished gravesite for Mike and me.  

   I ran into Craig, a deacon from the other side of the island, who was serving in today's mass. He stopped me and asked how I was doing. The truth is that I have bad bouts of grief these days. Sometimes, I don't know how I can function. Fortunately, I have moments of relief and true peace, and then the grief floods in again. This, too, will pass.

    After Judy, Paulette, and I had scarfed down our fill of donuts from the hospitality table, we walked out to the cemetery. I'm pleased with the simple, attractive design. I am happy I did both our gravestones now. That way, they match.

    Deb, the church flutist, joined us while we looked at the gravesite. She played at Mike's funeral even though she was sick. She said she wouldn't have missed it for the world. The subject of wedding bands came up. I was no longer wearing mine. I took it off when I had a rash between my fingers and haven't put it back on.

  I bought the ring several years after we were married in a gift shop in Cape May, New Jersey, when Yvette was fifteen. It was a memorable visit for several reasons. I described the ring as solid gold with three chips of obsidian. The two of the chips fell out over the years. I went to have them replaced. The jeweler said they were not obsidian but plastic. Obsidian was too brittle for such a small chip. I loved it. My ring was real gold and plastic. It was the perfect metaphor for any marriage. There are the genuine and the parts you fake to sustain the relationship. Two of the pieces of fakery had fallen away. There was only one small one left. I wondered if it too would fall out and we would have a perfect marriage. Mike died before that happened. I also doubt there is such a thing as a perfect anything, no less marriage.

  I went to Safeway right after church to pick up a few things. Judy and Paulette pulled into the parking as I walked to the entrance. I ran into them in the store. "Did I want to come up and get more water?" sounded good. I know they have the day off on Sunday from driving the Turo cars for Mei and Peter. I saw their car pull into their driveway on one of my walks.

  Isaac called. This time, just to say hello. He was driving from his home in Illinois to his school in Tennessee at the end of spring break. We talked for a good half hour. He called me a few times to ask for advice on how to deal with someone. In one case, he took my advice; in the other, he didn't, and it worked out fine. Yesterday, I posted the blog for March 18, 2022. I read that Isaac said I was an acquired taste. I asked him what that meant. He said I was brutally honest. I said what I thought. He learned to value that in me. Many do; many don't. I'm actually much more restrained than people think I am. I am just not as restrained as other people. I match my comments to the needs of the person. Needless to say, I'm not always on the mark. No one is. I am willing to take the risk if I think it is worth it.

  I had an appointment with Kps today. I was going to work on math word problems with her. I asked her if the answer to the addition problem would be bigger or smaller than the largest number in the problem. She said bigger but sounded resistant. I asked her if she could think of an exception. She thought for a few minutes and said, "No," but I was struck by her fear. I asked her if she was criticized a lot. Yes, by her mom. She is in the custody of her grandmother. There must be something going on for her mother to have lost custody. We talked about her relationship with her mother the whole session. Oh, boy.

  I met with second-grade M today. I was dreading it. I had no idea what to work on that would feel gratifying. I worked on math word problems. She had already shown me she could do addition in her head. All the problems I had were additional problems. However, I could use the word problems to work on inferencing skills. One talked about animals in a polar exhibit, such as penguins and seals. It never explicitly said they were polar animals; that had to be inferred.

  I went up to Paulette's to get more water today. When I picked up the empty blue bottles that Paulette fills up for me, Elsa knew exactly where we were going. She leaped around in excitement. Today, she was so excited that she had hiccups. When I pulled up in front of her house, I opened my window and yelled to Paulette, "Here she comes!" I must warn her because if Elsa gets inside before Paulette is ready, she'll eat all the cat food.

  I was there five minutes when Damon called. I took the call, sacrificing my visit with Paulette. I have to get him when he is available. If I don't, I won't hear from him again for two weeks. We always talk for a long time, at least half an hour, if not more. He'll visit his mom on the East Coast in a week or so and spend some time in New York City. He is concerned about the health of his mom and stepdad, as he should be. Neither are in A+ condition. Thank God they are in a retirement community with a graduated program. When Jean had her back surgery a year ago, she was in their skilled nursing facility for two to three weeks. John would have had to travel an hour to the nearest one if they hadn't lived there. This way, he could walk to spend time with her every day.

  Damon is not only concerned about his mom; he is also concerned about me. He knows I have more social connections than his mom, but he thinks I need more community. I would love to be a resource for educators—a kind of salon where people can come and ask me questions and interact with each other. I saw on Facebook that someone offered that. She has free workshops. She posts the time and the link. I could do that, too. I just don't know how.

   After the call with Damon, I did get to spend some time with Paulette. She was in the middle of watching an Unsellable program on house renovations. I love spending time just watching TV together with someone. Mike and I did that every night. I have none of that now.