Friday, August 07, 2009


My mood's been really awful for the last few days, and so has my memory. I'm forgetting things right and left (and no, lists aren't helping right now), not seeing things that are right in front of me, and feeling panicky about work. My summer class ends next week, and then I have a week to get ready for the fall semester. I'm far, far behind where I'd hoped to be right now, and while I'm sure I'll pull everything together (since I always do), it's going to be stressful.

The memory issues (more like mini bouts of amnesia) are scary, but I'm sure they can be chalked up to a combination of grief, menopause, and stress. So I'm actually not overly worried about them, although they're disconcerting and inconvenient.

Meanwhile, though, I'm floundering on TSWP, buried under overdue chores -- renewing my driver's licence, making overdue doctor's and vet appointments, taking care of Dad stuff -- and, generally, crawling along with the energy level of an eggplant. A dead eggplant. A dead eggplant that's been crushed under a semi. My five-small-meals a day regime isn't helping with that right now. I'm so hopelessly behind on e-mail that most of my friends probably think I've fallen off the planet. AND my socks still have holes in them, even though I'm using a heel-turning technique that's advertised as hole-proof!

I'm also missing Dad more than I have for a while, although I'm past the point when most people (especially at work) will cut me any slack for grief. Last August was when he and Fran got the apartment here and when we started planning for the move, so I've now embarked on the series of Dad-in-Reno anniversaries leading to his death. From the very beginning, I've predicted that this is when things would get hard. I don't think it's just a self-fulfilling prophecy that this seems to be exactly what's happening.

Meanwhile, my fall semester's going to include a bunch of exacting and time-consuming committee work, on top of a ton of grading because I'm teaching freshman comp. And for a variety of reasons, I either can't or don't want to say no to anything.

Yeah, I know. I'm projecting: one day at a time, yada yada. Gary and I talked about all this last night, and he said, "Find something to look forward to, and look forward to it." Good advice. I'm looking forward to our Alaska cruise next summer, but that's awfully far away. I'm toying with the idea of going to San Francisco on Labor Day weekend -- especially since Labor Day's my birthday this year -- but right now, the thought of the drive fills me with dismay. And that's also the weekend of the hot-air balloon races in Reno, which I'd really hate to miss. The balloons always make me happy.

Last night I told Gary, "I have holes in my socks, my head and my heart."

He said, "Work on the holes in your socks. You can fix those. The others will take care of themselves."

I hope he's right!


  1. You made me think of the song, "Whole Lotta Holes", on Kathy Mattea's Time Passes By album (great album, by the way)

    "Well, there's holes in the toes of my stockings
    And there's gold in the holes in my teeth
    And who left that hole in my wallet
    And a hole in my chest where my heart used to be"

    Hope it gets better soon.

  2. Thank you, otterb! I hope so too!

  3. I am sorry it is so tough; I do think you were quite right to predict the toughness around this time; it is of course absolutely normal, but does not match cultural expectations and thus the culture does not know how to support you or even to acknowledge the need for support. It may sound totally weird but at times when I feel particularly vulnerable--as if I have no skin--I take care to wear layered clothing, maybe a smooth turtleneck or t-top under something looser--as a way to give myself an extra layer of protection for my heart, holes and all. Prayers rising for you. I can imagine how hard this time is.

  4. Thanks, Terri! I do similar things with comfort clothing. And if the going gets really tough, I can always call the hospice folks; I'm still eligible for bereavement support there.

  5. Anonymous6:29 PM

    Unless something has changed that I missed, the baloon races are always the first weekend after labor day. Hello SF! Eric H


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