The Mamas and Papas play some of the best car driving music ever. But we didn't listen to it on the way back to San Jose.
But today is Monday.
I checked. Linda's cell phone has a 3 digit speed dial on my phone. There must be a one-button dial that I hit when I opened the phone last night. Must be.
Today I had a conversation with Deborah Morris Coryell, she who wrote "Good Grief," and runs an organization in San Luis Obispo. Some of the things I remember are from her book. I wish I had been able to take notes. I have to rely on my memory (fading at times) to recapture some of the important pieces.
It's all about me. I need to be gentle with myself. After all, I am like a baby... only 3 months into "this" ...this journey, this transformation. Not unlike when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. Transforming inside. I was kicked out of my cocoon, the routines, the known, the comfort of my relationship with Linda. Into this. The new Deborah. The Deborah without Linda physically present on a daily basis. So I need to remember to take it easy, not ride myself too hard, don't feel guilty or regret. (Side note: sometimes the guilt is a mechanism that covers the helplessness, the inability to do anything in the situation...because with guilt comes the sense that there could have been something else that could have been done).
She also said that within this new Deborah are all the pieces of all the Deborahs that came before. There is the Deborah who just met Linda, the Deborah who shared a life with Linda, the Deborah who has memories of all the trips with Linda. And of course, all the moments before Linda as well. We are all the sum of all the moments that make up our lives.
So today I went into Linda's black purse (the one that weighed maybe 10 pounds) and looked through her wallet. Seeing small notes she had written. A few fortunes from Chinese restaurants. The small blue pouch with bandaids, tubes, important things to carry. A hankerchief from her father. The original metal gum holder. It made me both sad and happy to be handling the purse and its beloved contents. There is comfort there as well.
When I left on the car trip in June, I put on a gold ring that Linda had worn as a pinky ring because I wanted to have something clearly of Linda's with me, on me. It is more flowy than most of her more traditional, classic styles. I have not taken it off. It goes with the gold bracelets on my right wrist: the one which matches Audrey's (and their mother and grandmother) and the plumeria from several Chanukahs ago. On my left hand is the ring that Linda had made for me before we met face to face. Amazing.
Getting ready for Audrey to come on Saturday. Ketzl is getting a bit antsy. Maybe I'll take out a wand and play with him.
I got home early enough to go out in the backyard and prune the vines that were climbing up the back wall of the house, as well as the wisteria that was covering some of the screen at the bedroom door. It felt really good to do something physical. Now I need to bundle them all up and shlep them to the front. Watered the veggie garden too. Good news: I ate the first few of the cherry tomatoes, and there are actual cucumbers on the two different vines: lemon and armenian. I am so happy!
