Saturday, March 30, 2019 F -Day.

    I set the alarm for 7 am but then woke up earlier. I rehearsed that section of the hula I’m still having trouble with while I walked Elsa.  When I got home, I read the text Judy Shibley gave me describing the steps hoping it would help.  It didn’t. 

    We all got dressed and had a minimal amount of food.  I assigned Mowgli to carry the urn and Honolulu Elsa, a stuffed dog that looks just like the real Elsa,  which Judy Glickstein sent Mike in the hospital, and made sure my phone was fully charged so it could be used to live-stream.

    As I was getting dress, it occurred to me that B, who works for Hawaiian Stage and Lighting, would know how to connect the computer to the TV, which Brenda had set up for the slide show.  I texted B about it but heard nothing.  As we were leaving, B and the kids showed up at our front door to check if we needed anything.  He was just reading my text as he walked in the door.  Yes, he knew how to connect them.  You need a special connecting cord. “Do you have one?” “Yes.”  He sent Elijah down to get it.  I’m telling you things work out in the most amazing ways. 

    We planned to leave around 8:15, but it was 8:30 when we pulled out of the driveway.  When we got to the church, there was plenty of room in the parking lot. 

    I told Damon to park in back because that’s where Mike always parked, but then we had to walk around to the front.  People were coming in. The visitation was actually for Mike rather than us.  People walked up to the urn and bowed or prayed.  It was their chance to say good-bye to him. Some people spoke to us casually, but it was not a formal reception line. 

    Lisa, the wife of one of the deacon candidates, made a haku for my head.  I first thought it was a lei, which I would have to wear around my neck.  I hate wearing leis around my neck.   They itch.  I had visions of having to deal with that while doing the hula.  I panicked and did what I was absolutely told not to do.  I told her I couldn’t wear it. But as it was a flower crown to be worn on my head; I was good with that. My head was much smaller than she expected to be.  I have to wear children’s hats. She was able to adjust it. She had made a matching lei for Mike’s urn. There were about 4 leis wrapped around the box holding his ashes during the funeral.  

    The flowers I ordered from the florist were very nice, not as beautiful as the arrangement Damon had sent to the hospital, but simple the way Mike would have liked it and as was appropriate for the Lenten season. The wooden urn was placed on a lovely hall table in front of the alter.  Honolulu Elsa wasn’t on top of the box as she would have been if he was alive; she was nestled in the leis and looking up at the box.

    I was told the hula group would meet at 9:15. I didn’t see them. About 9:30, I started frantically looking for them. I had understood Anita to say that they would gather on the south lanai to prep, but no one was there. As I ran around frantically looking for some sign of them, I saw one woman get out of her car that I thought was dressed for the hula performance, but that was it. I thought I’m going to have to do this alone. That was a little more than I bargained for.  I finally found them on the north lanai,  practicing and putting flowers in their hair. They finally got in place for their entrance on the south a little after 9:30.  

    Ace opened the ceremony. He started at 9:37 and made a long speech.  I thought we’re not going to have time to do the eulogies if he goes on much longer.  The hula was supposed to be at 9:35, lasting 5 minutes, which would take us to 9:40.  We were supposed to start the eulogies at 9:45, and the mass was supposed to begin promptly at 10 am.  I had been told repeatedly that Fr. Lio runs the schedule in a most unHawaiian way; he is punctual.  Thought we would have to skip the eulogies to make it in time.  

    As I walked out to get in place to do the hula, my left leg buckled, but it held up during the dance.  I made some mistakes, but they weren’t glaring although someone in my ohana saw it and told me it wasn’t bad.  As the hula group walked out the church door to the southern lanai, from where we entered, I walked directly to my seat with the family.  

    I got up almost immediately to give my eulogy.   While I had a brief moment of sadness as I started the hula, I was too focused on moves to have much attention for anything else. The same thing happened with the eulogy.  I added one comment that wasn’t part of the written text: “The next paragraph was written for my eulogy by Mike’s first wife.”  Someone in the audience gasped. This is the paragraph Jean wrote, which is included in my eulogy.

             Despite my grief now, I feel, and I will always feel that I have been so blessed to have been part of Mike’s life for all these years. In addition to being the fortunate partner of a person who could freely give as                  well as accept love. I believe that we both became  better people from our partnership with each o               ther.” 

She said this was just rewording what she had heard me say in different words. However, I am very touched that she thinks we both became better people because of the relationship with each other.  I can’t imagine a greater compliment. 

    For those of you who haven’t figured it out already, Jean is a sister to me, one of my best friends, and someone I genuinely love and enjoy.  We both think our relationship is one of the side benefits of both having been married to Mike. We consider ourselves very lucky.  

    Damon went next.  He broke down and had to halt.  I actually offered to read the rest of it for him, but he said no. Yvette went next. She also remained composed and made it through her eulogy.  I think each one of ours was perfect. 

    Then the mass started.  I just calculated when it started using the numbers provided on the live stream. What do you know? It was exactly at 10 am.  There were 6 priests on the altar and a bunch of deacons in the first pew on the other side of the aisle from the family. A number of the deacons in training came over from Oahu on their own dimes.  Mike meant a lot to many people.      

    Walter, the musical director,  did a stunning job.  I love his singing.  Clarence read the gospel and did homily.  Most of it was traditional. Then he made some personal reference to Mike and me.  He pointed out that I would be without a cook.  I signaled to the congregation that they could help with a by turning to them with a gesture that said, “Well?”  He also said Mike did all the cleaning.  I called out, “No, he didn’t. Clarence said that’s what he told him.  I called out, “He lied.”  That drew laughter, but I noticed I couldn’t hear my comment on the live-steam. 

    Fr. Lio had arranged for all the priests and deacons to stand around Mike’s urn and sing    Salve Regina a cappella.  Apparently, this is traditionally sung when someone ordained by the church dies.  If you watch nothing else from the funeral, watch this. Here’s the live Facebook post from the funeral: https://www.facebook.com/bettydavidross/videos/10211547674567974/UzpfSTE4NDgwNTU3NzY6MTAyMTE1Nzk5MzIwOTQzOTI/

    At the closing Lio said something about Mike.  He completely broke down and was unable to go on.  Mike meant a lot to him and provided him with a tremendous amount of support and help.

    After the mass, people lined up to express their sympathy and wish me well.  Ann Buffington was there.  I volunteer at school with her 3rd-grade kids and Shawana Davis’s.  I told her I would get back as soon as I had taken care of business.  So far, taking care of the funeral and financial issues has been a full-time job.  Our next-door neighbor, Ronen, was there, too.  He didn’t really know Mike.  It is me he has contact with.  I was very touched by his presence and sweet smile. 

    The luncheon served during the reception after the funeral was amazing. The tables were set with white table clothes with floral centerpieces.  Cylin said, “This is bigger and better than my wedding.”  I think it was 300 people as Lio had anticipated. I was starving.  I hadn’t eaten any breakfast.  The food was delicious, and there was plenty of it.  The was a vegetarian dish, a chicken dish, a beef dish, and a pork dish, plus salad and fruit.  While all the food already listed above was purchased by the church, the dessert table was provided by the members of the parish. There was this incredible flourless chocolate cake provided by Jacquie Warren. August, my grandson, couldn’t stop talking about it. The problem was there weren’t enough chairs.  Brain, Elijah, and Sariah never sat down.  Someone finally went and opened another chair for me so I could sit, but someone in my family always had to stand.  The food was truly delicious  Amazing! 

    When we left, I loaded up on food, filling about 8 takeout containers, each one with one of the dishes.  This meant we didn’t have to cook at home, although Damon and August are adequate cooks. However, it means my freezer still doesn’t get a break from the load.

    When I got home, I opened the cards people left.  There was money in each one.  Some made out to Habitat for Humanity, some to St. Michael’s, and some to me or cash, a fist full of cash.  All the money not mark for Habitat for Humanity is going to the church to give Fr. Lio as much relief from the stress of the debt as I can.  He will have to take on a greater load now that Mike is gone, besides the emotional loss.

    Then I hit the sack, while the rest of the family went to Kua bay to hit the waves. Well, Damon and August swam; Cylin probably not. Those are rough waves.   I felt a little bad, not being with them.  I am anticipating the quiet after this event is over. 

    I am the most dry-eyed of all.  I can’t find the grief in my body.  I released the stress of the 5 weeks on Oahu in the hospital with that cry at the beginning of the Bikram class when Maite held me, the other students in the class just held their places, and the teacher delayed the class.  What a relief that was.  The knot in my stomach dissolved. 

    I don’t miss Mike -yet?  I don’t know.  His being gone feels as right as my accepting him as my life partner 45 years ago.  It was just right.  Am I deluding myself?  Am I in denial?  Again I remember when my dad died. It was inconceivable that he be gone if I was physically okay.  Am I doing the same thing again? But then I lost his protection from my mother’s vitriolic attacks.  I don’t have to face a horror that my dad alone could protect me from now.  I have a wonderful life here in Hawaii.  I have a great home, I am financially okay, I have activities I am involved with,  I have friends, and I have three communities that I am a part of the church, the yoga studio, and the school.  And, now I have this blog.  Being able to write about my life is so helpful.  I almost can’t believe what a comfort it is.    

    What I have lost in Mike is someone for whom I was number one.  I am without that now.   I am without his smile as he beamed his love for me; I am without someone who tells me that he appreciates me every day.  Clarence said I will miss his strength.  I thought no. I will miss his love.  We were equally strong.  I am strong in my own right.  Where I am not strong, I work to improve myself.  While I think Mike would not have done as well as I am, if I had died first, he was strong in his own way. But, I didn’t need Mike for his strength, except to lift something heavy. Mike liked to say that our marriage worked because there was always one adult present -and it wasn’t always the same person.  I need Mike for his smile and his kisses and his hugs. I need Mike to be someone I can sit comfortably and quietly and read with.  I need Mike to sleep next to me.  I need Mike to eat with.  I need Mike to share a life with.  I need Mike to come home to and to come home to me.  I need Mike to build a life with.   I need Mike for his emotional openness, not for his strength.  He was capable of crying.  He sobbed when our dog died.  He sobbed when we had that bomb scare here in Hawaii, and he was without me.  He could make himself vulnerable in so many ways.  I need that human honesty.  I need someone to play with.  

            I recently watched ‘Forever’ on Amazon Prime. Boy, did I relate. Their relationship was heavy with tedium, but once they shared emotional honesty about who they were and how they felt about themselves and each other, the thing that bound them together was a game they played.  Mike and I were honest with each other already. We didn’t have one game, but we said and did silly things with each other.  We played.  I will miss my playmate in life. He also shared a sense of adventure with me.  I am viewing my life ahead as an adventure.  I may or may not, at some point, be overcome with grief at this loss.  I know I will face it then and learn from it because that is how I live my life.    Maybe I will be overcome to the point of being that brown puddle on the living room rug?  Possibly.  Fortunately, I have friends who will scrape me up, get me on my feet, and keep me going.

    The kids came home after swimming in Kua Bay. The waves were classic. Damon told me he and Cylin were going out dancing after dinner with Yvette, Josh, and Mowg to Yvette’s favorite club, and August would stay home.  We had to figure out how they were going to get to the bar..  They couldn’t take Yvette’s car because she drives the dogs to the vet in her car. Damon is terribly allergic to dogs. Elsa is kept out of the rooms they occupy when they visit, permanently.  Damon and August are on anti-histamines the whole time they visit.  They are both crazy about Elsa.  It’s a crying shame.  At any rate, they needed to take Mike’s old car because we have kept it dog free. The problem was Adam.  Did he need it to do his Uber driving?  I tried to call him.  No answer. I called Judy. She called him and Jazzy.  No answer on either phone. She knew they were visiting friends in Captain Cook and had probably turned off their phones. When we finally got hold of them, they were still at their friends’ house.  We tried to make arrangements for Jazzy to drop Adam off at the club on the way home so he could pick up the car to do Uber. The kids would call him when they wanted to go home. Then Adam called and said he decided to take the night off and get a good night’s sleep.

    I love having the kids here. Things get easier between us every year. Rough spots get smoothed out over time. I know from experience that it doesn’t happen with all family members.

    While eating dinner, I gestured with a chicken wing in my hand.  Elsa leaped up to grab it.  Pam, her breeder, and the original owner told me that she didn’t beg. She doesn’t.  She grabs.

    When the next generation went out dancing, I worked on writing this blog entry while I remembered the day. August, of the following generation, hit the sack. He was exhausted. 

    No TV tonight.  I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.    

Good night Elsa, Goodnight Mike.

EULOGIES and Obituary

(three were read at the funeral: Damon’s, Yvette’s and mine.

Two more were just included in the flyer: Jean’s and Cylin’s’

    

    

Betty David-Ross, Mike's wife.

    First, I want to thank everyone here for giving Mike the best four and a half years of his life.  He was so happy living here and serving you.  He would say that he should have born wealthy so he could have always volunteered his services.  

    For me, he was my life partner, my roommate, my best friend, my lover.  With his death, I am viewing him in a broader sense.  While I always knew about his larger impact on the world, without our daily contact to remind me of who he was for me, I see him from a different perspective and realize what a loss he is to this world.  Losing him is somewhat like losing a young person; he had so much left to give. Mike's knowledge alone is a loss to the world.   He has four file cabinets filled with notes, and that is nothing compared to what was in his head.  

    He loved to learn and share his learning.  He was considered an excellent teacher from his first job teaching philosophy at Columbia University.  His students loved him.   He also thoroughly enjoyed preparing for the distance-learning classes he did for the Josephinum Seminary and teaching his bible study here. He could inspire and engage students.  I thought of going myself, but I didn't want to be 'taught' by my husband.  

    Mike wasn't perfect, but for me, he was about as close to perfect as a human partner can get.  I am not just saying this now; I felt that way when he was alive.  While he didn't always respond without judgment and criticism, some appropriate and some not so much, he was always committed to respecting me on my own terms.  As I did him. It's not easy seeing the world, or how the toilet paper is put on the roll, from another person's perspective, but you can be committed to trying.  

    Mike often spoke about how arrogant he used to be before his conversion to the Catholic faith. Trust me, he was. There are even some who thought he was just looking down on them. But, no. Mike was  an equal opportunity 'arrogator' (one who expresses arrogance.) But Mike was someone who was open to change.  His conversion and ordination as a deacon marked a point of deep change. Mike always wanted to be a good and loving person. His faith helped him make changes so he could become more of the person he always wanted to be.

    Despite my grief now, I feel, and I will always feel that I have been so blessed to have been part of Mike's life for all these years. In addition to being the fortunate partner of a person who could freely give as well as accept love, I believe that we both became better people from our partnership.

    Finally, Mike's work with the Church and the wider Kona community added so much to his personal professional and spiritual joy. For this, I thank you again.

Damon Ross, Mike's son

When my dad first told me that he was thinking of moving to Hawaii, I had to chuckle. Only a few years before that conversation, he was scoffing at the fact that I would routinely spend Christmas in Maui visiting my in-laws. 

"I could never spend Christmas in a place like Hawaii. It's not cold. There's no snow. It just wouldn't feel like the holidays! Uchhhh!"

Cut to several years later- I'm sitting in this beautiful Church, listening to my dad, the deacon, give a midnight mass sermon on Christmas eve.

Hawaii became his life. And I'm so happy it did. Not just because of the awesome vacations we spent here...and the awesome waves at Kua Bay...

But because of all of you. This community...this congregation...this diaconate...are the reason my dad's last years of life were his happiest and most joyful. 

Thank you. 

Yvette Minear, Mike's Goddaughter.

Aloha, my name is Yvette. My relationship with Michael has held a few titles. Early on, I called him my Uncle, but that was difficult on the mainland because people asked which side of the family he was from. Later, I switched to Godfather, although it was not a Catholic baptism. Hanai Father became appropriate once we were dwelling on the Big Island. Truly, all of these titles are accurate descriptions of the ways Michael supported me in my life.

We met in N.Y., during the early 70's, when he & Betty got together. I was 5 & he was an adult. Michael & Betty were the first people who I never could have known would shape so much of my life. During the turbulence of childhood & my young adult life, Michael was a self-dedicated, primary adult in my life. He demonstrated unconditional love in action for 45 years.

I remember him driving me & his son, Damon, to the YMCA to go swimming as kids. Michael was always a consistent example of staying active & he supported me endlessly in my quest for a second career in the field of wellness. 

As a child, I would spend occasional weekends or holidays with Michael & Betty. Damon would always be there when I visited. We used to pretend we were siblings & all of us were a family. Some of my fondest memories are infused into that imaginary family time. I always knew Michael loved me. He extended the love of family generously to many. 

Every Christmas, for a long as I can remember, Michael made a grand celebration of the season! Food, decorations, food, gifts, food, music, food & then some food. The man LOVED to cook & even more, he loved to feed people! He fed us literally, emotionally & spiritually.

Michael was something different to each of us & we all have our own stories about how special he was. Please share them with each other & let him continue to inspire the greatest qualities he brought out in you!

Aloha & Mahalo

Jean Ross, Mike's first wife

     I met Michael Ross in college, 58 years ago  We were married in 1962, remained together through graduate school and our early professional lives, and then parented our son, as part of a family with our second spouses, Better David-Ross and John Womack.

    It is a tribute to Michael, and the four us, that we were able to parent our son, Damon, together, and become as close as a family can be. This is why I mourn Michael as a brother, who has been part of my whole adult life.

    The characteristics that I have loved and respected in Michael, through all the changes in his life were his intelligence and love of learning, his talent as a teacher, his resilience and courage in seeking personal improvement, his hard work, his wide range of interests, his contributions to his communities, his respect for our differences, his humor and kindness, his graciousness and generosity, and his love for our son.

    Indeed, the personal beauty we see in our son, is a testament to Michael as a father, as well as in his role as a member of our family, his Church, and the community.

Cylin Busby Ross, Mike's daughter-in-law

    I had been dating Damon for a few months when he planned a trip home to Princeton, where I would meet both sets of his parents. I had been well-prepped for the unusually cooperative relationship between his long-divorced birth parents and his steps, but it still came as a shock to me that all six of us went out and had Chinese food together that night. Damon's parents- all of them- were lovely and warm to me, and I immediately felt comfortable with them. Soon after meeting them, Michael took me aside, and with a twinkle in his eye, said: "You didn't tell me you were Catholic!" He was so tickled., I found it hard to admit that I hadn't been to Mass in years.  But the news didn't bother him. In fact, he seemed to take it as a challenge, inviting us to come out and attend Mass whenever we could.

    I soon learned that a great number of the traits I adored in Damon could be found in his parents- that wiliness to forgive and move forward in life, the unending optimism, and delight in getting to know me and accept me, just as I was, were all evident in Michael as they were in his son.  At our wedding, I thanked both Jean and Michael for having Damon and for raising him to be the wonderful man I married.  Later, when I saw Michael in the hospital in February before his death, I took advantage of the opportunity again to thank him for being such an amazing, loving father to my husband and showing him how to raise our beautiful son by example.

    I am truly blessed to have joined this family and to carry on the Ross family name in my son, August, Michael's only grandson, whom I know Michael loved 'to bits and pieces," as he would say.

Obituary: Deacon Michael David Ross, Ph.D.

Deacon Michael David Ross, Ph.D., 78, a former Professor and Academic Dean at the Pontifical College Josephinum, died Sunday evening, March 3, 2019, while hospitalized in Honolulu, Hawaii, of kidney failure and complications from severe pancreatitis. A sign in his room asked that he be addressed as "Deacon Mike," reflecting his commitment to and love for the Church.

Deacon Mike was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., in 1940, to Sidney Ross and Lee (Genud) Ross, both first-generation Americans of Jewish descent. As members of the Communist Party, his parents worked actively with poor and marginalized people for democracy and justice, providing role models for their children's lifetimes of social justice service. 

The Ross family moved to Baldwin, Long Island, in 1948, where Michael graduated high school. He then attended Antioch College, class of 1963, where he majored in and taught history at an Antioch summer program. Following graduation, he attended Columbia University, where he earned a Ph.D. in political science and went on to teach and serve as Assistant Dean at Columbia College.

In college and during a year abroad at Leeds University in England, Michael was a leader in civil rights activities, helping to integrate a barbershop in Yellow Springs, Ohio, and to desegregate public accommodations in both countries. While studying and teaching, he also participated in community programs at a drug rehabilitation program for young adults in New York City.

Michael transitioned to working as an administrator for several psychiatric hospitals in New York and New Jersey. He was the Acting Chief Executive Officer of Ancora Psychiatric Hospital and the CEO of both Greystone and Marlboro Hospitals in New Jersey, from 1981–1994.  

In 1990, Michael converted to Catholicism and returned to school to enrich his education and capacity for religious service. He was ordained as a Deacon in the Church on May 14, 1994, and served diaconal ministry at St. Paul's Church, Princeton, N.J. (1994–2003). In 2003, he earned a second Ph.D., in theology from the Catholic University of America.

In 2003, Deacon Mike moved to Columbus, Ohio, to become a systematic theology professor at the Pontifical College Josephinum. He was later appointed Josephinum's Academic Dean and then its Provost. While in Columbus, he served at St. Mary Parish, Columbus (2003–2007) and St. Joan of Arc Parish, Powell (2007–2014). After retirement from the college, he remained active with the Josephinum Distance Learning Program, which he had founded in 2008. 

Deacon Mike and his wife, Betty, moved to Kona, Hawaii, in 2014, where he served as the Coordinator of Spiritual Formation for the Deacon Program of the Diocese of Honolulu, and an instructor and advisor for the Office of Permanent Deacon Formation. During this time, he also served as the President of the Board of Directors of West Hawaii Habitat for Humanity. He was actively serving in ministry at St. Michael the Archangel Parish in Kona at the time of his death.

Deacon Mike is survived by his wife of over 45 years, Betty David Ross; his beloved son, Damon Ross; his first wife and Damon's birth mother, Jean Ross; and Jean's husband, John Womack; his daughter-in-law, Cylin; his grandson, August; his sister, Randy Ross; his nieces, Tara and Shivani Ganguly; his grand-nephew, Sidney Roth-Ganguly; and his godchildren, Yvette Minear, her husband, Josh, and Michael "Mowgli" Bunce. His energy, kindness and wit, and his example of scholarship, service, and love of family and community, continue to live on in those who survive him, and inspire those who have been privileged to know him. We will never forget him.

Funeral services will be held on Saturday, March 30, 2019, at St. Michael's Catholic Church in Kailua Kona, Hawaii. Visitation at 9 AM, Mass at 10 AM, and reception at 11 AM. 

In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the following organizations that Michael was deeply involved in: 

The local chapter of Habitat for Humanity in Kailua Kona:

Habitat for Humanity

P.O. Box 4619

Kailua Kona, HI 96745

The St. Michael's Catholic Church

75-5769 Ali' I Dr.

Kailua Kona, HI 96740

In memo: Debt reduction

Friday, March 29, 2019

    I got up at 5:30 am and called the State Farm agent in Ohio to see if they received my fax with my voided check. I spoke to Damon about the slide show.  We really don’t know what we’re doing yet.

    I walked Elsa, did the dishes, drank my two cups of water, and went to Bikram.  After Bikram,  I went to Safeway to pick up the items Damon requested. I thought I had misplaced the list and was frantically calling Damon and Cylin’s numbers.  It finally dawned on me that I had the information in an email from them, which I could access on my phone.   Damon wanted organic creamy Skippy peanut butter.  I looked over the shelves over and over and over; I couldn’t find it.  In desperation, I bought Skippy creamy and Adam ‘s all-natural creamy peanut butter.  He also wanted whole wheat English muffins.  I looked for Thomas’s English muffins. Safeway didn’t have that in whole wheat, but it did have another brand.  Then off to find eggs.  I usually buy from our local egg lady but didn’t have the time to stop off there today.

    While I was at Safeway, I took the occasion to return a large unopened bottle of salsa. When I find things I will never use that Mike must have bought, I try to return them.

    I called Judy; I finally remember to ask her about those missing plants. Yes, she said.  She saw them out in the front yard under the blue silver palm.  (An absolutely stunning tree.) She didn’t know what they were doing there.  I hadn’t seen them probably because Yvette’s car blocked my view, and I was afraid to look and find them not there.  I was expecting them to be closer to the house if they had been moved outside.  Whatever at least they were okay. I want to keep them because Mike bought them.

    When I got home, John and Ace were busy working away, scanning books. This is a lot of work, and they are only doing the books that have bar codes on them – for now.

    I showered, put up a laundry, and started on a thorough cleaning of lanai.  A thorough cleaning involves cleaning the 4 x8 screens.  I vacuum them first.  I find the small upholstery attachment does the best job – on just about everything.  Then I ‘wash’ them.  I lay down towels and those blue micro clothes sold at Home Depot, 25 in a package, at the base of the screens to soak up dripping water. I fill one bucket with clean water and have a second into which I can wring out the dirty water. I dunk a dedicated cloth into the clean water. Then without wringing it out, I wipe down the screen.  Water runs down.  I wring out the micro cloths on the screens.  Repeat until the water runs a light brown instead of black.  I have done this recently enough that the water was not too dark.  Today, it ran clear pretty quickly.

    Periodically I walked down to the library to talk to both John and Ace. Jean called to tell me that she had a treatment that made her back feel much better. Meaning she is optimistic about being able to travel out here to visit.  I love it when she and John visit.  I am also anticipating that it will make me feel sad.  One of the delights of their visits is the way Mike and John hung out and did chores together. Now John will be here without Mike. I think we will all be sad.

     Again, no student. This is good in as much as I have tons to do and don’t mind, but I am uncomfortable when someone doesn’t let me know that there has been a change of plans. Rather than do anything productive, I took a nap.

    When I got up, it was time to do Elsa’s dinner time walk. When I got home, I washed the floor and went to Costco to pick up two pizzas, one cheese, and one pepperoni, to feed the multitude tonight.  I had to wait, which I expected, and used the time to return a giant economy size jar of capers.   I did a little reading, too. Then I picked up the hot pizzas and drove home. 

    I was sitting down working on the blog when Brian, we call him B, Elijah and Sariah arrived. Brian lives on our property in a space that is basically a 1,000 square foot shed with an enclosed full bathroom and a second enclosed room that served as the office of the man who lived here before and is now Brian’s bedroom.  Elijah, 14 years old. is Brian’s grandson, and Sariah, 11 years-old, is Elijah’s sister and Brian’s hanai granddaughter.  Mike and I always considered them part of our ohana, a very Hawaiian thing to assume someone is your acquired family.   Elijah and Sariah played with Elsa first.  I suggested they play monkey-in-the-middle with Elsa.  I wanted to know what Elsa would do.  It morphed into a game between just the two of them.  It was wonderful to watch them play a made-up catching game with each other. These two obviously care about and enjoy each other.   

    Yvette arrived with her brother Mowgli, who came in from Portland, Oregon, for the funeral.  He got the pizzas out of my car, and dove in.  He was starving.  I was too. We stood around the kitchen, eating pizza.  Given that two of us were scarfing down the cheese, I think I should have made the order one whole cheese and the other one-half cheese and half pepperoni. 

    Elsa climbed into my arms for comfort.  For some reason, she finds Mowg scary.  Possibly because he is taller than any human being, she has ever seen before.  I see a change.  She usually would have gone to Mike for comfort.  It looks like she is accepting me as her go-to human. 

    Yvette went out again to pick up Damon, Cylin, and August.  When they got home, they stayed outside to admire the stars.  The night sky here is fantastic. We have one of the clearest views of the night sky in the world.  The street lights on the Big Island are all yellow to prevent light pollution for the observatories on top of Mauna Kea.

    Cylin showed me the dress she brought for the funeral.  Now, I had asked everyone to wear bright colors.  Someone said I wouldn’t have much choice about that since it was Hawaii. Cylin’s dress was multicolored with primary colors.  Very bright.  She had brought another dress that was more subdued to be on the safe side.  Since Yvette and I  were both wearing lime green dresses, Cylin’s would have been off the charts. I thought she’d been more comfortable wearing the subdued dress. 

    Now everyone was standing in the kitchen eating and talking,  I asked Damon if he would be okay with having Brian and the kids sitting with the family at the funeral. I know Mike considered him part of our ohana. Damon said, of course, as I expected, but he interpreted my asking him as an accusation of his assuming control. He said the funeral was all about me.  No, not really. It as minimally all about him and me, and then there was Yvette. I wanted to make sure it was okay with him.

    It was already late when Damon and his family arrived.  I went for a walk with Elsa. Mowg had offered to take her on his own, but I thought it would be nice to make it a threesome.  As I walked out, I panicked and thought, “I never called Adam to say he could have the car!” 

    Adam is Judy’s son.  On February 19, he was parked in his brand-new car with the engine off when someone backed up into him and totaled his car.  He had been using it to Uber and now had lost that gig.  This all happened when I was on Oahu.  When Judy told me what happened, I thought, ”Mike isn’t going to be using his car for a while. Why not let Adam drive it?”  To get the car registered with  Uber, Adam had to be listed on my insurance.  Judy and I busted our rumps, getting that done. We took turns talking to the insurance agents.  We both have pronounced east coast accents and figured they wouldn’t know the difference. They didn’t. 

    The day I spoke to the agent, she asked me if Adam had any accidents.  I had been told that three years ago, he was ticketed for driving while on a cell phone. She said, “He is listed as having an accident that is his fault on the 19th.”  “What?!?! I said.  “He was parked when this accident happened.”  The insurance hit was tremendous as a result.  I immediately told Adam and Judy, and a new round of excitement ensued.  Adam went to the police department.  They had it recorded as the other driver’s fault.  Adam went to the DMV.  They had it registered as the other driver’s fault.  He went back to the insurance company.  They responded that they had checked once and would not check again.  Adam’s father is a personal injury lawyer.  The reacted appropriately to the word “Lawsuit.”  They finally did what Adam had suggested in the first place. They contacted the insurance adjuster, and he confirmed that it was the other driver’s fault, and they adjusted the premiums accordingly.

    Now what had gone wrong? Where had the breakdown happened? Don’t we all learn something new every day?  There’s this organization called something like Nexus Lexus, which is a clearinghouse for information on accidents and fault which the insurance companies use.  As it winds up, they get information on the accident before they get information on whose fault it is.  Both parties were listed as being in fault until follow up information came through.  It was coincidental that we asked for a change in the insurance policy so soon after the accident.  But this is something for you all to be on the alert for.

    Adam has registered Mike’s car with Uber and was driving it several nights a week. I wanted the car during the day while Damon was here.  He is used to having access to it when visiting.  Adam said, fine.  I told him that I would let him know right after Damon, Cylin and August were picked up from the airport so he could have the car for the rest of the night.  I forgot.  I was so flustered, I didn’t even realize that the car was already gone from the driveway, which meant he had picked it up.  Yvette must have called him.  I ran back into the house, letting Mowg walk Elsa on his own.  It was only when I got inside that it registered that the car was not in the driveway, meaning he had already picked it up.  I took advantage of the free time and did MELT for my feet.  Why don’t I do this regularly is beyond me?  It always makes my legs feel better.  If I do it regularly, it will make a huge difference.  I also rehearsed that difficult passage of my hula dance.  I still was not getting it right.

    When Mowg got back with Elsa, I went to bed.  Good night, Elsa.  Good night, Mike.    

Thursday, March 28, 2019

     I didn't go to Bikram today.  I had too much to do in preparation for Damon, Cylin, and August arriving on Friday night.  I hadn't cleaned the house since January 25 or whenever I did it before then.  Guests are such great motivation. 

    When Don and Brenda were here the other night, Brenda wiped her finger on the top of something and offered to come to clean my house.  It was filthy.  I hadn't done anything since January 25 and probably not the week before.   When folks came to check out books in Mike's library, I left out dust cloths, and just told people to clean if they came across something that disturbed them.  My idea of hosting.  Mike didn't care for it; it drove my mom nuts, and I mean ballistic nuts.  Housekeeping is not one of my top priorities. But I do hope I can maintain Mike's sense of order in the house.  Some areas are already degenerating. 

    Mike's sense of order was wonderful when it wasn't the most annoying thing in the world.  I would work to clean the kitchen from top to bottom.  Well, I usually work from the bottom up.  Every drawer was cleaned, the cabinets were washed down inside and out, the floor washed and waxed, the refrigerator and stove also cleaned inside and out.  Then Mike would come home.  While he still had his heavy winter coat on, he moved his briefcase from this right hand to his left and straightened out a few things. Perfect! This room looked terrific.  Whatever I do, I seem to leave a trace of disorder.

    Now, I don't consider that all bad. Somewhere around the 10-year mark of our marriage, Mike came up to me and said, "I like order. You make disorder.  Order is better than disorder, so you should do it my way." Good try, but no cigar. I said, "This is a marriage. I have as much right to my neurotic need for disorder as you have for your neurotic need for order." He walked away.  I told you, he married a worthy opponent.  But, I have worked to be more orderly or at least limit my disorder, and he has worked to be respectful of my need for that disorder.  He would politely ask me to straighten up when we had guests, and he always asked me before he moved something.  I always thanked him for doing that. I was deeply touched by his efforts to make accommodations for me.  It was always a work in progress on both ends. Mike's fear of chaos drove him to preserve order.  My fear of authoritarian rigidity drove me to preserve disorder.  I figure, always find out what the neurotic piece is and heal it.  The rest will be good for everyone. 

    I called Tiaa Cref because I didn't have a 1099 for 2018.  They told me to get Mike to go online and get it.  I get that a lot of that these days, even though these organizations have death certificates in their little hot hands.  Wound up, the only way they could get it to me was through hard mail.  But, they very kindly offered to send it by express mail.  I was grateful.  At least, I knew it might arrive before I had my appointment with the tax account.  If not that, before April 15.

    When I call Kaiser Permanente to see if they had received the release forms and if I could get the total amount paid for prescriptions for both of us, I got a run-around.  The clerk I spoke to was only responsible for the release form. She passed that on to the prescription department.  It was like pulling teeth, getting the number of the prescription department where I could get the information.  I finally resolved to use a ballpark estimate on both our amounts.  I figure $50 for me and $200 for Mike.  I suspect it is actually more than that. We'll see.  In the meantime, I was told I will have to fill out a special form to establish myself as someone who can legally have access to Mike's records.  They know he's dead, they know I'm his wife, they know that I can see all the containers with pills sitting around. It's not like he was working on some secret sex change that they had to keep confidential and thought I might not know about. Please. 

     Judy Shibley came over, and we practiced hula.  I think I finally found out why I am having so much trouble with that one passage.  One gesture was taught as if it was part of a 1-4 pattern when it's on the 4th beat of the preceding unit.  Big difference!  I had figured out that it was part of the preceding phrase, but I thought it was on the & of 4&.  No, it has a full beat to itself.  Now I have to retrain myself in two days.  

    Yvette came running into the house.  She was rushing on her way out. Would I take care of her laundry that was sitting in a basket in the driveway?  Yep! My pleasure, literally.  I love that she can ask me something like that on the fly. It makes me feel more connected like we are a unit.  Yvette has been using my dryer since hers broke.  It means she is up here more, just doing her thing. I love it.  She is also doing massage and Graston work on me whenever she can. We had talked about every other day, but she is sometimes too tired.  I don't get the full treatment; I get frequent treatments. They are so helpful, and I don't have to drive home afterward.

    I had announced on Facebook and the blog that we were going to live-stream the funeral.  I had to figure out how to do this.  Did someone have to be friends with me to have access to the live stream?  I signed Mike up for Facebook.  He would no more have done this when he was alive than stick his face in the toilet.  Without friending myself, I went to my Facebook page to see if 'he' could have access to my live-stream invitation.  He could.  However, anyone who wanted to see it would have to be signed into Facebook even for just that day.  Of course, I have no idea how to unsubscribe. I have to get poor Mike's name off that sight.  He would be mortified.  Mike was a Luddite. He hated most technological advances.  He finally surrendered his flip phone when he became the spiritual director for the diaconate program to he could communicate with the candidates.  The diaconate program helped pay for it.  However, Mike never listened to his voicemail or read his texts.  What was the point?  

    It was the bewitching hour.   If I didn't go down for a nap, I was going to be one cranky lady. I set the alarm for 2 pm because I was expecting my student.  But then she didn't arrive.  I thought I remember she can't come on Thursday, but she'll come on Friday.  It would be so helpful if I wrote it all down.    

    John Coughlin arrived.  He wanted to scope out Mike's library and figure out some strategy for scanning all the books and cataloging them so people could select what they wanted.  There is an app that allows you to catalog books, records, CDs, etc. CollectorZ. Com. John paid for it, but many people can have access to it using his password. That means that more than one person can work on this project.  John lives on Oahu.  If we could only use his phone do to the scanning, we would never get the work done.  I made one suggestion: we mark the completed shelves with a small piece of masking tape. That way, we don't go nuts wondering what we've done and what's left to do.  

    Sandor came over with the wooden box for Mike's ashes.  He thought it might be possible to place the whole plastic box in the wooden box.  He slipped it in. It was a perfect fit.  He showed me the plaque he had ordered specially from his cousin.  It was supposed to say, 

Deacon Michael David Ross, Ph.D.2

    October 27, 1940   

March 3, 2019

The squared sign was because the students are the Josephinum called him "doc squared."

There's a Jewish star in front of his birthdate because he was born into the Jewish faith.

The Jerusalem cross in front of his death date is because he died a Catholic.

At least that was Sandor design, but his cousin in Miami had made a brass plaque  with 

            

Deacon Michael David Ross, Ph. D. 2 instead of 2

Sandor was quite pissed.  He had gone out of his way to make sure he had the best engraver, and then she didn't follow his instructions.  She said she couldn't do superscript on her machine. Sandor said, "Why didn't you tell me so." He wound up going to the engraving place here in Kona.  

    Sandor is several things in my life. He is a deacon candidate who would have worked with Mike, but now will be his replacement. He is a friend, and he is my optometrist.  He looked at my glasses and told me I needed new lenses. The glasses were scratched.  I had an extra pair of glasses, but they hurt when I put them on.  I brought them to him, and he adjusted the frame by bending it.  Perfect!  He took my old glasses so he could order those lenses. 

    I got to work cleaning the refrigerator.  Damon was coming, Damon was coming, Damon was coming. Because I was in a hurry, I tried something different. I took all the shelves out on only one side.  I discovered I had enough room that way to remove the glass plate and its frame that is the whole width of the refrigerator.  This way, I didn't have to empty out the entire frig at once.

    I stopped off at Office Max on my way to hula practice at church to fax my copy of the release of information form to Kaiser Permanente.  When I called them in the afternoon, they didn't have it yet, so I wanted to make sure they got it as quickly as possible.  I couldn't get the fax to go through.  It was around 5pm.  I had thought that the form I signed at KP would be faxed immediately. Now, I understood that all faxing was being saved for the end of the day.  Every medical facility with Kaiser was faxing these forms at the same time. Good luck getting through. 

    I went off to hula practice. I was still having problems with that one section.  I was going to work on getting it right, but I was also prepared to live with it if I got it wrong.

    I went back to Office Max after hula practice. Sure enough, my fax went right through. It wasn't rush hour anymore. 

    Kelly had been there to clean the house.  The guest bedroom looked great.  She  also made the beds.  Mike and I always did that together.  I have trouble reaching over the bed.  So glad she was there to do it. John must have left before she did. She took a book.  I have to find out if it one that was already scanned. 

    Judy had also been by.  She walked Elsa around the dinner hour today since I was out at hula practice.  She took the cooking equipment she had left on Sunday.  My two-house plants that Mike had bought were gone.  I could imagine Judy taking them home to do something healing with them, but I was also afraid Kelly had thrown them out.  That didn't seem too logical.  She wouldn't do that without my permission.

    My dinner was a biscuit, the rest of chicken soup, red cabbage, apple pie, and a little of the left-over chocolate pudding and  Chantilly cream.

    I spoke to Damon about the slide show.  We really hadn't thought it through. We hadn't lined up a projector.  Zola told me she had a big TV screen at her daughter’s funeral. We didn't know what to expect or how to do it.  Zola said we should download everything onto PowerPoint.  Damon said he download all the pictures he had onto Quick Time.  

    Damon also said he had a dream. His dad and I were walking down a hallway.  He called to us.  I came back toward him, and his dad continued on.  He commented that the symbolism was clear.  He saw what I saw;  his dad's going represents his death and permanent departure.  But did he see any significance in my coming back?  I am just his step-mother.  I have never seen myself as central to him as his parents.  But here I was included in this dream, and I responded to his call.  I was very touched. 

    By 8 pm.  I was exhausted.  Yvette came up and did some work on me. That had the effect of reviving me.  I watched some TV, I think the Prime Time show Forever.  I hadn't seen the end of it yet.  

    I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, went to bed. Good night, Elsa. Good night, Mike.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

    I got up at the usual time, did the usual things, and went to Bikram. I’ve started feeling a good stretch in the back of my left thigh and inner thigh.  Those muscles have been tight since I’ve been 19.

     When I got home, I showered and was ready for my telephone appointment with my therapist. She is someone I started working with in Ohio.  I’m not working with her because my life is a mess; I’m working on becoming a better, even less reactive person.  I worked on my anger with a family member, figuring out why I am so reactive to her.  Some of it makes sense.  She is annoying on several counts and has a history of simply erasing me from the picture.  I don’t think any of it is intentional. I think some of her behavior would simply be amusing if we had a strong positive bond as well, but we don’t.  I remember asking her mother why she didn’t like me shortly after I met her.  Her mother said, “Oh, she really admires you.” God protect me from people who admire me more than they like me.  I’ve learned that it is a toxic mix. Also, the relative seems to be incapable of holding the concerns of two people at the same time.  She divides the world into victims and villains.  She concentrates on what she considers the most injured person, and everyone else doesn’t count or should back her up as she addresses the chosen person’s needs.  I might be able to overlook her behavior, but since I don’t believe she has ever really liked me, those behaviors are totally unacceptable.  

    When I got home from Bikram, I returned a call from an old friend of Mike’s, Bobby.  I had emailed him to tell him Mike had died but had no response so suspected he never got it.  I texted him the information.  He called me while I was at Bikram.  I called him back while I started sorting papers.  Now, I haven’t spoken to Bobby for 6 years, but Bobby and Mike knew each other long before I came on the scene.   It was one of those friendships that runs deep even though they didn’t see each other much.  We’re all getting old.  Many people find the prospect of a long airplane flight to Hawaii or from Hawaii daunting.  Bobby and I compared notes on ourselves, our spouses, and the children in our lives. 

    After that conversation, I had to get to work on my taxes.  This has been a frightening prospect.  I had done some work just before Mike got sick on January 25. (Note my diligence.).  The paperwork was still sitting on the dining room table, waiting for me to come home.  Yvette had bought all first-class mail to Honolulu when she came over.  There were a lot of tax forms. Immediately after I got home, other activities took precedence: planning the funeral, sorting out the financial situation, learning the hula, writing my eulogy, writing obituaries, deciding on the container for Mike’s ashes, working on the remembrance book with Zola,  working on the photograph panels with Damon, and getting the one pot of flowers we’re allowed to have for the funeral because it is Lent.

    I had sent out announcements through people who were responsible for the mail list for the several Bible study classes Mike conducted. I had them announce that anyone who wanted to get a single book or just visit Mike’s library of three thousand books could as long as they did it before March 28 when John would start scanning the books for the catalog.   Zola, Karen, Jacquie, and Lina visited today.   The ‘searchers’ had free range while I worked in the living room on my taxes.

    Kelly, the daughter of a good friend, dropped by as the others were leaving to give me an orchid plant and offer condolences.  She just sobbed.  Mike and I had been there for her when she ran into some trouble a year or so ago.  Kelly has very fond memories of Mike’s role in that incident. She now runs a very successful cleaning company in the Kona area.  She offered to do some cleaning for me.  Ah, I asked her if she could clean the guest side of the house and make the beds in anticipation of the family arriving. 

    Kaiser Permanente sent two sets of forms for my tax records.  One was a running record with a total clearly marked at the end. The other a bunch of individual documents for each service. I had no idea what these were about.  I called the Kaiser Permanente accounting department.  Apparently, the relevant information was supposed to be highlighted, which it wasn’t. I wasn’t very pleasant on the phone with the clerk.  I was so frustrated, and I passed it on to her.  She put me in my place.  She said, “Do you want me to explain it to you, or do you want to let off steam?” I shut up, but probably the more accurate response would have been that I wanted to let off steam. The running record was for professional services; the individual documents were the hospital fees.  Mike spent a lot of time in hospitals last year. To boot, he had two people being tested as donors requiring a lot of hospital time. 

    I did more work on the taxes.  I found some missing information for Tiaa Cref and tallied the medical and charity expenses for 2018.  I realized I was missing some receipts for the dialysis and my therapist.  I will call tomorrow.

    I worked on Sundays’ entry until Don and Brenda arrived with Thai food.   I walked Elsa while they set the table.  (Do I have people trained, or what?}  They were wonderful dinner company. There was lots of laughter and some memories of Mike.  I laughed with Mike a lot.  He found me funny and learned to love my wild leaps of imagination, making connections between things he thought had nothing to do with each other.  For dessert, we had Judy’s apple pie and the Hagan Daas Vanilla ice cream they left when they were here on Sunday.  After dinner was over, Brenda cleared the table and started putting dishes into the dishwasher.  There were some clean dishes in there already.  I had to put a stop to that.  I wash my dishes by hand and use my dishwasher as a convenient drying rack.  Yes, I know. If I don’t run it occasionally, it will break.  I do sometimes run it, usually without dishes.

    When Don and Brenda left, they took the three photo panels for the funeral.  They came out fantastically well.  Brenda will put them up at 7:30 am on the day of the funeral.  After they left, I realized I forgot to include Mike’s diploma from Catholic University for the 2nd Ph.D. and his NADD award.  I knew he was proud of that. 

    I did some more work on the taxes. In the process, I discovered the pharmacy bills were not there. I think I was planning to start the process of getting them the day after Mike collapsed.  Oh, boy getting those suckers in time for the taxes will probably be out of the question.  I have to fill out a release of information form. That form is then sent to the pharmacy department, which then has 14 (fourteen) days to get it to me electronically. 

    When I think of Mike, the sadness is not about my current life without him, but about how he suffered from November on with the dialysis and then excruciating pancreatitis.  When he was in the hospital, I offered to take turns with him, as he offered to relieve me of my hot flashes.  We never figured out how to do either switch.   I didn’t writhe in pain watching him suffer, but it did make me sad, and still does.

    I watched ‘Forever’ on Amazon Prime with Maya Rudolph.  I highly recommend it.  It’s slow in the beginning.  It’s about a married couple living together after death. (You’d think I’d have more brains than to watch a show like that at this time.) Their marriage is tedious in the beginning, but in the final episode, there is a resolution that is very real to me.  They are honest with each other for the first time, and they play a word game that is special to them.  Not a very exciting game, but a playful shared act. It reminded me of my marriage with Mike and what made it such a delight, both the honesty and the simple playfulness.

    I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.  Good night, Elsa. Good night, Mike. 

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

I got up a 6 am today, as usual.  I walked Elsa, did my oil rinse while I washed last night’s dishes, and drank my two cups of water in preparation for my Bikram yoga class.  The class went more the way it usually does.  I didn’t sleep through this class as I had yesterday.

    I located the checkbook for my account and paid some bills.  Several items are charged exclusively to Mike’s credit card, which have to be transferred to mine like the T-Mobile and Netflix bills. There were a bunch of regular bills that had to be paid, and one from the kidney dialysis center. The ones from November and December were under $20, the one from January is over $400.  Huh? That is a substantial difference. Must check on that—something else for my list.

    I had sent out a fax of the death certificate to Raymond James. I called to confirm that it was received. Rick told me I needed some sort of legal document to effect these transfers of our joint accounts to my name and all the accounts to the revocable trust.  Then I called Jennifer, my lawyer. She said no, I didn’t need that document.  That document was generated as a result of being in probate court.  No, I didn’t have to go to probate because it was a small enough sum of money.  But was it a small enough sum of money?  Are all the accounts cumulative?  Does it include all the money or half the money in our joint accounts?  Rick said he looked it up and according to Hawaiian law, joint accounts are transferred automatically to the surviving name on the account.  However, the account is blocked with the notification of death.  Huh?  I was calling back and forth between Rick and Jennifer, and then back to Rick and back to Jennifer. Maddening.   I finally asked if they could speak to each other directly.  Some of the problems are caused by the difference between New Jersey law, where Rick is, and Hawaiian law, where Mike died.  Rick had never heard of some of the procedures.  And, there wound up being some form I hadn’t provided to Rick.  Jennifer finally sent it directly. I still don’t know what it is or where I would find it in the folder Jennifer gave me.  Final outcome- not yet.  There is some question of whether NJ law will require me to go to probate.  Waiting anxiously for the result of that decision. 

    The second issue is the Revocable Trust document made out in both our names sufficient, or will we have to draft a new one in only my name?  Jennifer says that it is written into the existing document that the trust passes on to the survivor.  Rick isn’t sure that is sufficient.  Something else he will have to check with their legal department. 

    I received a form from Social security yesterday saying I had to apply for unpaid monies. Huh? I was told that the March payment was made into Mike’s account and was valid because he died on March 3.  It winds up that Raymond James had to send it back to Social Security because his account was shut down because of his death. Social Security was asking me to send Mike’s birth certificate, our marriage certificate, and his death certificate within five days of receiving this form.  Really? Can everyone get those documents together in 5 days?  There is a note that they will help you get those forms.  Fortunately, I had them all. I knew where they all were.  I had looked for the wedding certificate the other day because I will need it when I had my telephone appointment with Social Security.  I called Social Security, and they told me they would send the documents back to me.  But when?  Will I have them in time for that telephone interview with social security at the end of April?   Will I have to order a new marriage certificate?  I meant to make a Xerox copy of it, but I forgot. A new one will only cost me $25. Phew!  I checked on getting a new birth certificate.  In the bad old days, it was an easy and not expensive procedure.  Now, it is online, and it costs $125.  To boot, I have the problem of proving that I have a right to Mike’s birth certificate. I will collect Mike’s social security at the end of all this because it is greater than mine.  I will also get one big check to cover everything from April through the time that I finally get the check.

    Melissa Smith invited me up for a visit.  Judy Glickstein had told me how beautiful their house is.  They live 5 minutes away, just to the corner of the block and then up the hill, but they are several hundred feet higher up the mountain than we are and in a completely different climate zone.   She lives there with her husband, Larry. They designed the house together.  Melissa said there is nothing like joint planning to get to know someone.  They survived.  They have a fantastic view of the ocean, very panoramic. They also have a patio that is surrounded by buildings on all four sides and protected from the wind, or strong breeze, depending on how you want to view it.  We tried the open lanai first, but it was too windy for me. We moved to the enclosed patio and sat under the large eve on rocking chairs as it drizzled. She had a cup of tea, and I had a cup of hot water.  

    Larry came home while we were sitting and talking.  Melissa rose from her chair and waved enthusiastically through the window in the garage, greeting him joyfully.  It reminded me of Mike and me.  We would often greet each other with joy.  We were glad to see each other.  Even if we weren’t exactly in that mood, we would do some sort of greeting.  We made it a ritual.  

    Our friends Carolyn and David once did a workshop on the rituals in a marriage.  There were yearly, monthly, weekly, and daily rituals.  There was one couple in the workshop that was getting a divorce.  It came out that they had no rituals in their marriage.  Rituals are the endoskeleton of a relationship, while the extended family and friends are the exoskeleton of a relationship.   The rituals served to help us maintain loving interactions even when we weren’t in the mood.  The relationships we had to people outside of the marriage helped maintain the concept of us as a couple.  

    With all that, there was still a rough patch in our marriage.  For some reason, there was a period when we weren’t as genuinely affectionate or playful with each other.  There was dead air between us.  It had been growing for years. I have my theory about why this happened, but there is no question that it just happened.  We were living in Ohio at the time.  I was feeling so lonely in the marriage that I started complaining to a friend about it.  It was tough.  The complaining helped because I became aware that there was a problem. It helped me articulate what I was feeling. I thought, “I have to leave this marriage.  I can’t live this way.” But then the next thought was, “I have no place I want to go, and Mike is a really good person.” I resolved to make myself comfortable with the situation, to be more self-reliant and emotionally independent. 

    Shortly after I made that resolve, the situation broke open.  We were laughing with each other, playing silly word games, flirting like young teenagers, and pouring out affection again.  At some point, I told Mike what I had been feeling and that I had thought I might have to leave the relationship.  He told me he had had the exact same thoughts. He was thinking of leaving but felt, there was no place he wanted to go and I was a really good person.  Being a good person, at least seeing each other as moral, good people with integrity was paramount to both of us.  We never sunk back into that morass of emotional silence again.  Things got better after that.  I’d like to say we did our 40 days in our desert, but I think it was much longer than that. I can say that I feel that our relationship became ultimately more loving and more deeply loving after that. 

    When I got home from Honolulu after Mike died, there were three packages from Amazon with books Mike had ordered.  I wanted to return them unopened.  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out Mike’s password for Amazon.  I finally called them, told them the problem. They sent me three return address labels by hard mail.  I dropped the books off at the UPS store in town. Done.

     My next stop was at Island Naturals, where Maya works.  She wanted to make a live stream invitation to the live-stream of the funeral. Since I was starving, while I waited for her, I picked up something to eat.  I bought a spicy papaya salad.  Too spicy for me, as it wound up. Maya had me make the live-stream invite without any prep.  I’m pretty fast on my feet with my mouth, but I made a few stumbles while doing the invitation.  She wanted to get on to my Facebook page, but I have no idea what the password is.  I should learn a lesson from Mike’s death and write them all down in a nonelectronic manner, maybe even as part of the will.

    When I got home, I discovered I had left Elsa outside. She was fine, but I thought how angry Mike would be/is with me for forgetting her.  He sees her as a helpless animal utterly dependent on our goodwill.  Well, while that’s true, being outside in the shade for two hours isn’t lethal.  She seemed to recover just fine.

    I spent a fair amount of time playing FreeCell this afternoon. Then I wrote down some notes on the day, so I didn’t completely forget what happened.        

    I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa.  Good night, Mike.

Monday, March 25, 2019

I woke up early this morning, 5:30,  and finally got up at 5:40, although the alarm was set for 6 am.  I walked Elsa, washed the dishes from last night while doing my oil rinse,  and drank my two cups of water. I left for Bikram at my usual 7 am for my 7:30 class. 

    During the class, my body went into a very relaxed state while in the dead man’s pose during the long savasana.   I didn’t want to move.  I respected that and remained flat on my back from the rest of the class, which was a good chunk of time. I knew I fell asleep.  Since I was on my back, I suspected I snored.  Maite said,  yes, I snored, and that’s how she knew I was okay.

    When I got home, there was a phone call from Rick White, our financial manager.  He had just gotten off the plane from Paris and was working at home.  I was already working on transferring funds from Mike’s name into mine.  Most of our funds were either in my name, joint accounts, or retirement accounts, for which I was the only beneficiary.  There is just one account that is only in Mike’s name.  The other objective was making sure that all my accounts are transferred to the trust accounts.  That way, my heirs won’t have to go to probate if I’m hit by a bus tomorrow. Well, maybe not by tomorrow.  These transfers are all more elaborate and confusing than I expected them to be and take time.  I will have to open all new accounts, which means getting new checks.  I have to have one account with a checkbook stay the same until I have the checkbook from the new account.

     I put the dishes I washed this morning away. Then I did some work on the blog and practiced my hula some more.  I think I’m finally starting to get the transitions.   I practiced more as I walked Elsa, waving my arms around and doing that old 1,2,3, tap step as I went while putting weight on my toes so I could get that wiggle in my hips as Meali’inani recommended.

    I ate some dinner, watched some TV, opened the day’s mail, and walked Elsa again before bed. When I got home, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.  Good night, Elsa. Goodnight, Mike.

Sunday, March 24, 2019

    I didn't have to get up early today because I was going to church instead of Bikram.  Judy was feeling poorly all yesterday, last night and again this morning from the chemo treatment. While she wasn't still nauseous, she was very tired, so tired she decided not to go to church.  If Judy is passing up on church, she is feeling really lousy.  Paulette and I went alone.

    We go to the Holy Rosary Church, which holds about 50 people in total.  Some people sit on the small lanai at the front of the church.  I once saw people standing in the parking lot in the rain with umbrellas during mass.  I started talking to the woman sitting next to me.  The first question always is, "Where are you from?" because tourists attend church.  If you don't recognize someone, it is a good question to start with.  This woman was visiting her sister, who had just lost her significant other.  What are the chances of sitting right next to someone who is also dealing with a recent loss?  

    Fr. Diego was the celebrant this week as he had been last week. When he first arrived, his English was not very good.  It still requires effort to understand everything he says, but a lot sounds good. It is those short [a]s that kill him.  But, his sermons, wow!  His English is excellent, his themes are great, and the macrostructure of them is brilliant.

    When I got home, I worked on Thursday's journal entry and sent it out.  I was exhausted and took a much-needed nap. 

    Sandor had called earlier about wanting to come and look at Mike's books.   I knew he wanted his Book of Offices.  I had looked around for what I thought it was and couldn't find it. When he arrived, he knew where Mike kept them.  Yes, them. It's a four-volume collection. I was sure Mike didn't use these books.  Well, I never saw him use them. I am regularly getting surprises about how Mike related to his religion.  It saddens me somewhat that he didn't share more with me.  Some of this may be a result of my very different way of relating to Catholicism than he had. His way was to study what others taught and to follow the structure dictated by the body of the church.  We were very different that way.  I look inside myself for answers in conjunction with things I learn from other people.  Mike looked outside himself, to experts for guidance.  This difference in the way we thought and discovered the world was one factor that may have prevented him from sharing more with me.  But, I believe there was another factor. Mike never mastered the skill of participating in unstructured conversations.  For him, that represented chaos, which he was uncomfortable with.  Mike wanted conversations to be structured and have well-defined objectives.  He could share information about himself when he thought it would benefit another person.  Otherwise, he didn't like just talking about himself.  You might think this was humility. I'm sure that was part of it, but I believe there was also a neurotic element. He was protecting himself from a situation he wasn't comfortable with. 

    While Sandor looked through Mike's books, I showed Mealiinani my hula skills.  I was showing off. Meali'inani is Hawaiian.  I thought she'd get a good laugh at watching me struggle to execute the dance. She started giving me pointers.  Wow! Of course, she has been doing hula since she could walk.  She taught me how to use my feet:  keep your weight on your toes. That's how you get that rocking motion in your hips. She also made some pointers about how to move my hands.  I understand everything, but will I be secure enough in my execution and my balance to be able to relax and do it.

    Judy and Paulette arrived with food for dinner.  Judy had cooked the meat and the apple pie at home.  Again, it was the full Glickstein clan, Howard, Judy, Paulette (Adams), Adam, Jazzy, Leon, and Luke.  The food was delicious, as usual.  The meat was a brisket.  The red cabbage was to die for.  The mash potatoes were just good.  The apple pie!!  Need I say more.  Good thing there are people in my life who know how to cook and want to use Mike's kitchen. Be my guest. 

    We were going to go through some of the pots, pans, utensils, electric equipment, etc., to see what they wanted to take home with them or leave here to use when they make dinner here.  Both Adam and Judy weren't feeling top-drawer.  All they wanted was the deep fryer hidden under the stovetop.   I don't think Mike ever used that machine. Again, I'm looking at my husband as a hoarder, a very, very neat hoarder, but a hoarder. 

    I decided to use the dishwasher tonight.   I don't like it because it doesn't get the dishes clean enough.   But at least it sterilizes them.   While the machine whirred away, I watch TV. 

    I've noticed some differences in Elsa's behavior.  I think she is slowly accepting that Mike won't be reappearing.  She doesn't sit staring at the front door, and she sits closer to where I am.  Where Elsa would always greet Mike when he came in the front door, she didn't acknowledge my coming home. I see her standing by the door more when she hears my car pull into the driveway.  When I nap, she comes and sleeps on top of me, sometimes.  Elsa is all of 13 pounds, no real weight. Poor sweet dog. She had a very special bond with Mike, and he was crazy about her.  

    While watching TV, I worked on writing notes for the Sunday entry and revising Friday's.  I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.  Good night, Elsa. Good night, Mike.

Saturday, March 23, 2019

Ah, Saturday. I didn’t have to get up a 6 am to make the morning class. I could get up at 7, and I did. I emailed my eulogy to Damon. I wasn’t feeling right about the end and wanted his suggestions. He made a grammatical correction and advised me to leave out a whole section where I talked about Mike’s history as an arrogant person. He was never that way with the people he met in Hawaii, but he was that way when I met him. I’m sure it was part of what attracted me to him. It was familiar. I had seen it in my father. But what was also in my father was a desire to be a better person. My dad didn’t have the resources that Mike and I had. We saw psychotherapy as a means not just to be happier people, but better people.  

    And then he married me. I have discovered that anyone who is not interested in growing and changing finds me unpleasant to be around. This is not to say there aren’t other reasons to find me unpleasant to be around for some people, but those who are stuck and want to stay there are a class unto themselves.  

    I think I’ve mentioned this before: After Mike left his first wife, he asked a colleague what to look for in a life partner. The person told him to look for a ‘worthy opponent.” Everyone in our life is an opponent at some level or another. They’re not us. Of course, not all of us is us at any particular moment. We can be our own worst enemies and our own best teachers. I think he always thought he found that in me as I felt that I had it in him. We were each other’s best teachers. We both believed that as we adapted to each other’s needs, we would become bigger and better people. I know I like myself better after 45 years with Mike. This is because he worked hard to overcome my mother’s constant stream of negative messages, but I have also become a less reactive, more tolerant person. It takes a lot more to get me upset. 

    When couples enter a relationship with expectations, trouble can follow. One mate can claim that the other has to make the adaptations, and accuse them of being a limited or bad person because they don’t. That’s abuse. A deep respect for the other, a foundation of acceptance for what they are, and appreciation of their strengths have to be the foundation of this arrangement. Both have to change. Both have to adapt to the other. If one is always in the wrong and the other always in the right, something is amiss. I remember that when I decided to accept Mike as my life partner, my thought was I could live with him the way he was. The rest was gravy. However, I would never hook up now with the person Mike was 45 years ago. Mike liked to say that our relationship worked because there was always one adult present, and it wasn’t always the same person.

    On that note: I included in my eulogy something about Mike’s weakness in unstructured conversations. I wrote it in a funny way. My intention was to add some humor to the eulogy. Damon actually did a rewrite of that part of the eulogy eliminating most of my comments about Mike’s weaknesses. I wound up agreeing with him wholeheartedly for two reasons. First, there was too much about me in this section. My intent was to emphasize Mike’ s willingness and ability to change, to learn from me and life. I was somewhat disturbed by that, but not enough. Then, more importantly, Mike didn’t like it when I used him as a butt of humor. I use myself as a butt of humor and couldn’t quite get to the point where I understood that I didn’t have the right to use him this way without his permission. I can say that my admiration and love for the man so overshadowed my vision of his weaknesses, that the humorous criticism was trivial. But it wasn’t for Mike. I was working on changing. He had told me to stop repeatedly. I fully agreed that a joke using another person is not funny if the person is hurt by it. Doing so is downright mean. Again, my pride, comfort with, deep trust in, and love for him overwhelmed not only whatever minor complaints I had, but my ability to see my behavior as a problem. I was as comfortable with Mike as I have ever been with any human being. I knew that he always had respect for my point of view even if he didn’t agree with it. If there was an opportunity to render something with humor, it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I think I also assumed I could treat him the way I treated myself. I don’t use myself as a subject of humor out of disrespect for myself. I just find the human condition funny. 

    Bikram was pretty full today; there were 17 students. The woman who I had been concerned about because I hadn’t seen her back in class was there. Maya was in Mike’s Tuesday morning bible study class, and he was her tutor in her conversion process. I spontaneously thought to ask her if she would be willing to hold a procam or a phone so we could live-stream the funeral. I still didn’t know anyone who knew how to do this. I was hoping Sandor would be able to. Turns out, Maya had a live-streaming account and knows all about it. Wow! Another incredible piece of luck. Each turn I make is one for the better, so far. I can only hope that my good fortune will continue.

    During the Bikram class, I focused on contracting the right psoas and shifting my right hip moreover to the left and back and my left hip forward. I continue working on repairing my body. After the Bikram class, I went over to the church to do hula practice. I asked if we could practice in the church in the formation, we’d be using so I would be familiar with the space. Anita, who heads the hula ministry, placed me in the center with all the other dancers to the left and right of me. I said, no. I need someone in front of me. Anita said, “You can see what they’re doing when they are to the side of you.” I explained to her that having someone in front of me actually helped my sense of balance. I couldn’t believe the difference it made when Judy stood right in front of me. 

    The practice was difficult. I was always behind. I finally realized that the arm transitions from one posture to the next don’t happen on 1 but on the upbeat, the & in 4-&. That helped quite a bit, but it is not going to guarantee that I will be okay for the actual performance.

    I still had a bowl of limes from the time that Paulette and I went down to pick them. I squeezed enough to last me a few days. It takes four limes for each glass of limeade where the glass is ¾ filled with water, ice, and coconut water. It takes a lot of limes to make enough.

    I listened to my Saturday shows on NPR, “Moth Radio Hour,” and the “TED Talks.” I missed “What Do You Know?” because of hula practice. I’m getting used to “Ask Me Another,” but it’s for a younger audience. While I listened, I proofed Wednesday’s entry. 

    I took Elsa on our before dinner walk. I picked up the mail. This was the first day with no mail related to Mike. This is the start of an avalanche of reminders that Michael is gone.

    Yvette came up and did some Graston work on me. I love the way she works. It’s like my muscles purr and relax. They’re saying, ”You’re giving me exactly what I need.” I can see the difference in the next Bikram class. Between the ‘injury’ I experienced when in Honolulu when Mike was in the hospital, Yvette’s work, the work I’m doing in Bikram and all the work I’m doing changing how I sit, stand, walk, and sleep, I am seeing a big difference in my body. I am doing the hula because this is what Mike always wanted me to do. But, the truth is I couldn’t have done it much sooner. I didn’t have the range of movement I needed to do any of it. I think I am going to continue participating in the hula ministry both because it was what Mike wanted me to do and because the movement is good for my body and my mind as I learn a new discipline. It also will keep me connected with the church community, which is a wonderful group of people.

    I was working on finishing writing Friday’s entry when I got a phone call from Sandor. He was back from his professional development class in Las Vegas. He told me he was going to work on figuring out how to create a blog site for me. He then tried to prepare me for what I was going to miss about Mike. I had thought about everything he mentioned. In so many ways, Mike is still here for me. Most importantly, I can feel his energy. His energy is so much a part of me, it is hard to know what is him and what is me. There were very few rough edges between us, at least for me. I loved doing things with him and sitting with him in silence. Our relationship started out being ‘something I could live with,’ and it got better over time. I am imagining conversations with him. But those wonderful hugs and kisses, and just sitting next to him with bodily contact, how will I live without this for the rest of my life. Others hug me, but what I created with Mike was special to us.   

    I walked Elsa, wrote some more, ate dinner, and watched some TV. Tonight I turned the TV off in favor of writing more. I think I would be much better off if I devoted the evening to reading and writing instead of watching TV. It is so much more satisfying.

    Before I took Elsa for our bedtime walk, I treated her ear. She doesn’t like that at all. I have to hold her down and squeeze the liquid into her ear. I think I mentioned that she peed on the lanai after one treatment after I had just walked her two hours earlier. Yvette said, “ I think she pissed with you.”

    Elsa and I did our late-night walk, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, went to bed at 10:30, “Good night, Elsa, Good-night, Mike.”

Sa