Since October I have been carrying around with me Michele’s wedding ring and mine. At first I kept them in my pocket. Her ring was returned to me in a small zip lock bag and I figured that anyone who had touched it would have been wearing gloves. I left it in the bag as I wanted the person who last touched it to have been her. After several weeks of toying with it I wore a hole in the bag and held her ring in my hands for the first time since her death.
For the next several weeks I carried both her ring and mine in my pocket. Sometimes my pants pocket, sometimes my shirt pocket. One at least one occasion, bending over in the men’s room I managed to spill both rings out on to the floor; for several frantic moments I scrambled around searching under the lavatory and in the other stalls until I found both again. Clearly I needed to find a better way to keep both with me.
At the time I had been wearing a thin gold chain of Michele’s, with a pendant made from quartz laced with gold. I put the pendant away and hung both rings from the chain. That is until this afternoon. When I went to take my tee-shirt off prior to a shower the rings got caught up in a fold of the shirt and the chain broke.
I broke Michele’s chain.
For the time being I have put the chain and our rings aside. In a odd bit of snychronicity it was almost exactly nine years ago that we first got our gold bands and starting wearing them. Somehow it seems appropriate to set them aside now.
At least that’s the plan.
I have been exhausted all week long and consequently have been going to bed very early, even for me. The last two nights I’ve been in bed well before nine p.m., and last night I was asleep before then.
Going to bed while it is still light outside is something I haven’t done since I was a little boy. Lying there, in the half light coming around the window blind, hearing sounds of people still outside, brought back memories of a simpler time in my life.
Remember those heady days at the beginning of summer after school was out for the year, when every day was a Saturday, and the next day was filled with the promise of new adventures and fun? I know that the world wasn’t truly simpler in 1967 or 1970, but as a boy of seven or ten I was blissfully unaware of life’s realities.
What I wouldn’t give for just one day of blissful ignorance again today.
A powerful, compelling, and thought-provoking look at perhaps the most spun issue of our times, global warming. No matter what side of this issue you consider to be truthful you owe it to yourself to see this documentary. With the exception of one brief segment about the contested 2000 Presidential Election, the film stays on point and address the issue directly. An Inconvenient Truth is perhaps the most important movie you will see. This year or any other.
Rating: Go see this movie. Take everyone you know with you.
Shortly after I lost Michele last year I was told by a very dear and very wise friend that I should wait a year before making any major changes to my life. The upset caused by her death to my emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical balance would take at least that long to settle. Fortunately I have a long term work engagement and my apartment lease isn’t due until this August 31st.
Recently, however, I have been thinking about making some changes. The new upstairs neighbor has at least one small child who seemingly stomps across the floor all the time. Also the cave like atmosphere given to my apartment by only having north facing windows is depressing at times. The thought of moving is daunting and the need to provide 60 days notice in order to not violate my lease agreement means I have to decide in the next 15 days. I don’t to move to another apartment and I don’t have a down payment for a house. So I am stuck, so to speak, in my current residence.
Which puts the need for change onto my job. I dislike my job situation but I like the team and the work conditions. The people I work with are great, and I have learned a tremendous amount from them. We generally have fun even though there are some aspects of the engagement that are trying. I know, having had more than one other job in my career, that all engagements are going to have good points and bad. Changing jobs, it seems, is a lot like changing apartments. It’s costly on several levels and you have to accept that the new situation won’t be perfect. Potentially worse, you have to accept that the new situation maybe less acceptable than the current one. The evil you know versus the evil you don’t.
Setting aside moving and changing jobs I find that I still have a need for change. I guess this is the first sign that I am beginning to be ready to move away from Michele. I know in my heart that I can’t stay in suspended animation for the rest of my life just to keep a fading connection with her alive. Moving or changing jobs would allow me to blame the move or the new boss for the change rather than accept responsibility for it myself. The real change that needs to occur is acknowledging that my life will go on and that my life with Michele, while it will always be a part of me, is going to fade and have less immediate significance. Wow. It is hard to even write that sentence without stirring up feelings of betrayal.
Moving or changing jobs right now would abruptly stop the process of grieving that I am undergoing and mask my true feelings with the temporary pain of change. The healthier choice would be to keep my apartment and job (for now) and face my need to separate from what my life was and discover what it might be in the future.
I could not agree more with this posting over on kottke.org.
I am getting back into the martial arts workout groove. Muscles that were painfully sore after my first kendo workout are now only tired. The little nuances that make up and art form are starting to become apparent to me, and I am feeling my focus return as I strive to incorporate the proper stance, grip, footwork, and arm motions. In short I am starting to have fun with martial arts again.
Changing to a totally new style was the key I think. Trying to regain what I have lost in karate would have been possible, but now without tremendous dedication and forgiveness for myself. Not having studied karate in eight years means that physically I am starting over while mentally I want to be as good as I was when i stopped. Starting kendo puts my mental and physical expectations on par with each other, consequently I am far more apt to be successful.
I still have some concern about how this will effect my knees. Initially I think they are going to be more painful than normal, but as the muscle tone in my legs improves (and as I get into better shape overall) I think the pain will not only be reduced, I think it will be lower than my recent sedentary lifestyle has caused. Still I am closely monitoring them as I don’t want to make them worse.
Band of Brothers is easily one of the most compelling World War II (or any war for that matter) movies I have ever seen. It is an unflinching look at the realities of combat, and the tremendous sacrifice soldiers made when they left America for an unknown future in the European Theater of Operations.
Rating: I will be buying a copy for my collection immediately
For the first time since my mom died I truly cried last night. Once I was started it was hard to stop, and as I sobbed I could feel the tension that has been with me for weeks now relaxing. Afterwards I was totally spent and exhausted. It was as cathartic a cry as I’ve had in a long time.
In part the release was about my dad. My conversations with him over the past couple of weeks have allowed me to see just how blue he is now, and I’ve been privately very worried about him. I promised my mother that I’d look after him and make sure he was okay, but in truth only he can decide how he will approach grief and mourning. Yesterday, as a result of sending him a small Father’s Day gift, I received an email of thanks from him. In it he elaborated on his plans for the near future and for the first time I heard a note of hope; an indication of looking up and ahead rather than down and behind.
My own experience tells me that he will cycle through periods of energy, hope, and planning for the future as well as periods of despair, sorrow, and gloom. For me being aware of his moods impacts me in a way I wasn’t prepared for initially. When he is down it accentuates my fears about his death and the rather selfish feelings of isolation and abandonment that I have as a result. While I know this isn’t true I feel as if everyone is leaving me behind and that soon I’ll be utterly alone. Seeing a glimpse of positive from him yesterday gave me enough strength to let go of my fears, and more importantly, to release the pent up emotions about my mom’s death, my situation in life, and my own fears about mortality.
Sometimes all you need is a good cry.
… Laughing.