Transitions Part II

Posting Part I of these musings and thoughts was cathartic. It had not occurred to me that grief was a part of this until I was proofreading. It just seemed to be lifestyle adjustments. I can see, too, that grief is resolving itself into joy. There really is light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not a freight train!

My days off are catch-up for sleep. Grocery shopping?? What is that? Errands?? Buying clothing?? Are you kidding me? I live out of the grocery store next to work. I live in my work uniform after hours. It makes laundry easier.

I miss attending church. I miss being in the church nursery, hard as it can be to chase those little ones. I even miss teaching a group of 13-year-old kids in Sunday School. I miss teaching the adult women’s classes, something I did for years. I miss activity nights, sharing and teaching needlework.

I miss starting water fights with the 13-year-olds. You know what happens when you start a water fight with 13-year-old kids? You get smeared. Royally. They love it.

I miss Saturday night dances. There is nothing like the high energy of a good jitterbug. I miss ballroom dance classes, even if the women do outnumber the men about six to one.

Cognitive function is better these days, better than it has been in years. Still, I am scattered. I set goals for myself, thinking I can pursue some things I want to do... and find a few days later that it has fled my mind. Writing is one of those favorite pursuits that proves elusive. So is scrapbooking, and music. No more long hours at the piano polishing another Scott Joplin rag. Not worth the headache. I spend maybe five minutes at a time playing a piano now. I feel like I am in prison without my music.

I love studying and learning about anything and everything, and I am finding that I had better pick ONE at a time. Things have really changed. No language class. No art class. No yoga groups or meditation nights. No needlework classes to teach. I feel I've awakened in an intellectual desert, having so much function return... but falling short of many things I WANT to do.

My social life right now amounts to one evening a week with a group of crazy knitters. This is one activity I get to as much as possible, difficult as it can be. Not a whole lot of knitting gets done. We are too busy laughing over… everything… laughing at ourselves, mostly, as we share our stories. I leave refueled, and the physical drain is offset greatly.

I have an old Mary Engelbreit calendar picture for my wall: Don't cry that it's over, smile that it happened. Something like that. Gratitude goes far, lots of happy memories to look back on.

So... this week, I got online and downloaded some new music for my iPod – artists I’ve never heard that a friend recommended. Little things are going to be what fill my time and bring me joy. Sudoku puzzles, even though I mess them up every time right now, where I used to work them correctly. Collecting needlework patterns online that I know I will never make, but so what? Clipping the now-dead flowers off the geraniums, happy that I once again had geraniums this summer.

Remembering that this summer was the first summer in over 20 years that wasn’t completely dictated by heat intolerance. I have enjoyed being out in the day with little energy drain from it. Wow. Is this how other people really get to live?? Cool!

How about this one, all the more delightful because it is FUTURE: Being informed by my 3-year-old granddaughter that when she comes to visit in two weeks, we have to go feed the duckies. I don't know where the duck ponds are in this county, but darn it, I will find one, and deal with the resulting exhaustion! The duckies must be fed.

There are lots of adjustments and changes, awakening from two decades of numbness. I still ask myself, WHERE is my life? The answer that keeps staring me right in the face is simple, sometimes frustrating, sometimes profound: My life is right here.

Comments

Well I hope you keep writing Gracie 'cause you CAN WRITE and you are an inspiration to us all! Thanks xox
 

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GracieJ
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