Sunday, March 24, 2024

 Sunday, March 24, 2024 

   It was Palm Sunday. Not that I don't think of Michael, but today was a special day. I hoped Mike's idea of being with Jesus in heaven came true. My heart ached for him. I loved seeing him happy. I loved giving him what he wanted when I could. I couldn't always accommodate him because I didn't think it was a good thing or couldn't extend myself that far. But if I could, I did, and I loved his joyful response.

   Right after church, I drove to the account's office to deliver an envelope with a copy of my 1099 from Social Security and the final account on my medical and charity expenses.

   Leaving the church parking lot was a trip. The Costco parking lot isn't the only one packed these days; the church parking lot was getting bad, too. Fr. Lio even talked about it from the pulpit last Sunday. He said more and more people are coming to church.

   Now, the increase in Costco customers can be due to the increase in tourists or the increase in grocery prices, which is driving more people to shop at a discount store.

   I napped briefly after I got home and then had third-grade M at noon. We continued working on comprehension with E.B. White's classic, Stuart Little. M's getting better at figuring out the language and using context clues to infer the meaning of a word.

   The rest of the day was spent working on updates, talking on the phone and a little bit of gardening. My stepson called. We had a nice long talk. He had been through an upsetting experience at work.

     A department head was fired for 'inappropriate' behavior. People infer the worst because no one can say what that 'behavior' is. The poor guy is indicted by a rumor for the worst behavior and does not have a chance to defend himself. The chances of him ever finding another job in the industry are probably out. I feel sorry for this guy. He says he never meant to hurt anyone. However, he was warned that his language made his staff uncomfortable. He blew it off. He had one staff member defend him, saying he was a nice guy who meant no harm. That staff member whom he mentored was a favorite. If I know someone really likes me or loves me, I can overlook their behavior, Mike would say outrageous things to me, but I knew he loved me. I thought his limitations were cute, even adorable. That's not to say I didn't blow a gasket occasionally, or he didn't have to tolerate my limitations as much as I did his. Except for that one staff member, no one else felt this guy's loving gaze as I felt Mike's. 

   My mom did crap like that to me. I once asked her to stop criticizing me, telling her how much she hurt me. She turned that on its head. She insisted she wasn't hurting me, probably because she never meant to do so, and accused me of saying that just to hurt her. How's that for an upside-down apple cake?