Tuesday, August 30, 2022

Tuesday, August 30, 2022

I managed to get around the block again this morning. When I got home, I had half an hour before we had driveway yoga. I proofed the August 30, 2021 update and posted it on the public blog. My number of visitors was greater, up to two-digit numbers from the one-digit ones I had seen all summer. The teacher who requires his students to read my blog might be back in the saddle.

   For yoga this morning, it was just Scott and me. Have I told you how much I love doing driveway yoga? The view of the sky and the breezes are lovely. Lying on the hard cement is so relaxing. At the end of class, we talked about how lying on the hardness of the cement was better than wood, which has some give. Scott said that lying on cement drains calcium from the body. I couldn't find any reference to it on the Internet. It said the water leaches calcium from the cement.

 I attended the bereavement support group for the first time. Shortly after Mike died, I looked into the group. I didn't feel it was suitable for me at that time. I was not devastated by grief. I was busy getting my life together. I was on an adventure. Grief has hit now. My theory is I was like a fat lady in a famine; it took time for all that fat to be consumed. My padding was Mike's love for me. It has taken time for the memory to thin out enough for me to feel grief. 

   My first response when he died was to grieve for others. Mike made many wonderful contributions to the lives of others personally and organizationally. He reorganized Habitat and changed the orientation of the diaconate program. His contributions were valued. Amazing! He was an outsider, and people welcomed his input. Damon and I both thanked the community for welcoming him at his funeral.

   I got lost when I went to the center the first time for my interview to see if I was suitable for the group. This time, my GPS got me there. When I arrived, one of the participants asked me if I had the results of my Covid test. No. The volunteer didn't tell me I needed one. The support group leader, the woman who interviewed me a few years ago, 

gave me a test. It was negative.

  The group consisted of five men and two women. I was surprised. I thought the group would be mostly women. We went around, introduced ourselves, and spoke about our loss.   As I announced my husband died three and a half years ago, I started to sob. I was surprised. I don't cry a lot. I think there's more buried down there than I dare admit. I was doing okay, but the hole in my life was deep.

   One woman talked about losing her husband and then her son. Ding! I recognized her. I yelled out, "You're from church. I'm Mike's wife." No response. "I'm Mike Ross's wife." Still no response. "Deacon Mike."  "Oh, yes. I thought you looked familiar." Two of the men were from the church. One only came to the island three years ago. Mike was already gone.

  Susan, the moderator, started the session with a poem. She had a list of items about grief. She went through those items, discussing them at length. No one else talked. I finally said, "I would like to hear from the others." She said, "I don't want to force anyone to talk." I said, "Just leave space." She asked if anyone wanted to talk. Several people raised their hands. Some talked more, some less, and two men said almost nothing. I was furious at the moderator. She was running a support group like a class. She prevented people from talking and responding to each other.

  I basically took over. At some point, I was talking about my feelings. Susan asked if I felt guilt. She didn't ask anyone else questions like that. She didn't ask me an open-ended question: What did you feel? She asked me a closed question, a yes/no question. I said no. I didn't feel guilt. I never felt guilt in my marriage. It's true. I never hated myself as Mike's wife. This is a remarkable statement for anyone to make, particularly me. I was raised to see myself as deficient and at fault. With Mike, the way I failed him was up for negotiation and a problem to be solved. I didn't have to be perfect. I was good enough.

    My anger toward Susan was apparent. But in all fairness, I came in angry because I had done something stupid earlier in the day and was angry at myself.

   Yesterday, I received an email from a woman inquiring about tutoring for her son. She got my name from the educational support person from a middle school private preparatory school. I skimmed her email and responded. Her son needed help with Language Arts and algebra foundational skills and study skills. I asked her what grade her son was in. While I could help with the language arts and study skills at any level, I was only comfortable teaching math up to fifth grade. Afterward, I reread her email to check if she had asked for help for her son versus her daughter. Thank God, I got that right. However, she did say he was starting 8th grade. Having someone as a tutor for Language skills who needs help to read an email correctly didn't look good. I was thrilled with this avenue for referrals. I was afraid I had blown it. I was so angry at myself for not taking the time to reread the email before responding.

  I stopped at Costco on my way home from the bereavement support group. I thought I would need a nap. The anger gave me energy. I knew at the far end, I would collapse.

  I washed Elsa before taking her on her before-dinner walk. I started recording when I bathed her. It had been one week to the day. Not too bad, but not as good as it should be. Because of her skin condition, I should bathe her as often as every other day.

      When I picked up water from Paulette, she looked at the back of my car. She could see no sign of any damage from the incident in the parking lot on Sunday. Paulette told me that probably the automatic braking system kicked in. Her car brakes when she backs out of her garage and goes too far. It's a weird feeling. The car halts suddenly and won't move. That's what I experienced. It didn't feel like giving gas made a difference. I would have driven my car more deeply into the other. I had no idea my car had this stop function. Wow! This car has paid for itself. I would have dented the passenger side doors. Replacing them would have been a piece of change. More importantly, I didn't have to feel guilty about not properly checking the other car before I left the parking lot and leaving my information. I can't let myself off the hook. I drove away before thoroughly checking when I didn't know about the failsafe feature.

 There was an entry on Quora about Sandra Bullock. What a fantastic actress she is. I enjoy anything she's in. I watched 28 Days; it was available on Netflix. I don't usually enjoy snarky, but she does it so well. Her characters use it as a defense, and it makes sense. Too many scripts use it to be funny, and it's not, at least not for me. Her physical comedy is good, too. One of my favorite movies is Miss Congeniality. I don't usually watch movies repeatedly. I have with this one. It always lifts my spirit.