I
wasted Friday because I thought it was Saturday.
All
week long I’ve been 24 hours ahead of schedule.
I’d
like to say I’ve been so busy with new projects, that I got so sidetracked, I
jumped the gun – so to speak – and the excitement of the moment catapulted me a
jump ahead in time: that would be a lie. I have been busy … but not
that busy.
I
believe the upcoming “holiday”: Memorial Day – when the dead are celebrated and cemetery plots are decorated, is the culprit.
I am aware the Day is
arriving … and I plan on being in Eden Valley on Monday to visit our plot, and
place silk flowers on familial 3 plots – ours, where Bob’s earthly remains lie,
his Father’s, & his Grandparent’s: these are placements of people I loved,
and who loved me; I will honor their memories by honoring their plot upkeep. For
several mornings running this week, I’ve woke up at the crack of dawn (Bob’s
waking time – he was the early bird, I was the night owl); I was missing
him. BIG TIME.
Over
the past 526 nights and subsequent mornings, I’ve gotten used to the vast empty
space on his side of the bed – but this morning it bothered me: Memorial Day
jitters. So, when I woke up this morning at the crack of dawn, I didn’t lie
there staring into space, leisurely waiting for my senses to fully waken; or reach
for his smart phone to entice some degree of comfort by playing one of the games
he’d downloaded – I quickly jumped out of bed and set my thoughts on-/my mind
towards washing the car, inside and out, as soon as it was considerate to do so:
I’ll vacuum the interior this afternoon …
To be honestly truthful, I haven’t washed a car in at least a
decade – I wasn’t even sure I could get all the way through the process without
losing steam and finishing up with a half-assed job that would look worse than leaving
the car alone in its sad Pigpen state.
But, I needed something to DO and some way to redirect the
antsyness; so I got busy with the car – it needed washing; the muddy
road muck, drifting fine powdery residue from passing street traffic, and gathering
yellow tree pollen was pretty thick on the car’s exterior: I was getting mighty
embarrassed taking it out into public. While I prefer the back roads and byways
where it doesn’t matter that the car was filthy due to Toyota discontinuing car
washing perks for their Premiere Customers, and the lack of charity
fund-raiser-curbside car washing due to inslee’s inane and aimless State
lockdown, occasionally I do drive into town – if only to purchase groceries and
TP now and then. People see the car.
It got washed.
People walking past the house yesterday, watching me wash the car,
commented on the house and garden area: “You have a very nice home”
& “Love your garden area”. THANK YOU, BABE!
One man walking by, knew Bob; and they often talked when they met –
he has been in and out of the hospital himself these past months, so he hadn’t known
of Bob’s graduation; so, I told him that Bob was now a resident of Heaven for
the past 17 months.
17 months/9 days/5 hours & 43 minutes – right now: this very
second.
Washing the car brought back memories of Bob telling me how to wash/detail
my first car – the little Horizon hatchback he bought me. I remembered how
proud he was of me when I finally broke down and got my driver’s license … he
bought me that hatchback right off the showroom floor the first weekend he got
back home (he was working 5 days a week away from home at the time: the
reason I finally got my DL). I was so happy with that little car – and felt
so loved that my husband would buy me a new car, there wasn’t a
month of good weather that the car wasn’t washed/detailed.
Yesterday I felt Bob’s love and encouragement – “You can do this,
Honey” all around me (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/05/grief-is-heartbreaker.html).
I was able to complete the task without running out of steam. I
was wet and the hems of my jeans/sneakers were soaked, but my muscles held out,
my lungs/heart behaved; and I felt fabulous putting the bucket, brush, and wash
rag away … and backing the car back into place in the carport, all spiffy looking
and smart feeling ;-)
I did a fine job of it – this will happen more frequently now
:-D
While my lungs did behave and didn’t seize up due to the next-door
neighbor’s rampant black mold issue, and wildly out-of-control unmowed grass … it
still irks me that Tessa’s house, next to ours, is the ONLY house in the
WHOLE Park of 850+ homes that looks like a rat-infested fire trap. And it gets
worse looking every year:
THIS is the house candy scott says “Tessa told me the house has been professionally painted and maintained”. Hmmm. Candy wheels her fat ass around the Park on her golf cart nazi patrols, looking at everyone else’s house and writing citations for “infractions” …. But somehow, Tessa’s house is ALWAYS OVERLOOKED and bullshit flows freely from candy’s mouth in relation to this rat-trap house and yard.
When we moved into the Park in 2017, we would walk around the Park,
hand in hand, admiring the other homes and their landscaped Lots; we felt lucky
and blessed to be here. I am trying to continue to feel lucky and blessed (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2017/07/downtime-day.html).
Some days, it gets hard.
Real hard.
Houses like this one are FORBIDDEN in this Park … yet, candy has
done NOTHING but look the other way when she drives past it to find faults in
other homes …
Despite candy sending out these Newsletters, NOTHING is being done about the house next door. I don't expect Tessa's house to look any different than it does now ... unless I get new neighbors - and no one is going to buy that filthy house with an over-grown yard. That house is a disaster waiting to happen ... and it's too close to mine!
The gray clouds overhead parted, and the sun made a meager attempt
to shed some sunshine, so I decided to plant my sprouted corn seed – as well as
a few other transplants – in the garden area.
The cool, wet weather is making it nice for the cabbages, peas, beets,
tomatoes, lettuce, nasturtiums, ect. And so far, the river winds haven’t
knocked baby apples off the tree branches – I may actually get a few pies
out of the trees this year:
I saw a few big snails, as did my neighbor, Trudy in the back Lot. We talked a bit over the fence, and she invited me to go walking with her at Willow Grove next week sometime: I accepted – we’re aiming for a 4 mile hike around the perimeter trails.
I was happy to see this!
When we moved into this house the end of June 2017, we worked
together to make it our home – inside and out. We were building something we perceived
as being long-lasting, rich in love, and vibrant: we were building another
chapter of life together. We pulled carpets and laid wooden floors, we switched
out the ostentatious out-of-date light fixtures and replaced them with more
laid-back, homey light fixtures that reflected our style of living. Bob built
me planter boxes for a full sized garden … and we placed those along one side
of the Lot boundary line; he also bought me 4 rain barrels for my garden water,
and built me 4 barrel stands to elevate the barrels for maximum benefit: ron
cook and candy scott would raise hell about the boxes and the barrels … which
would result in my husband’s death 3½ months after the last planter box and
barrel would be set in place (Bob had only lived in this house with me for
18 months): ron was paranoid of my Patio Apple Trees, and candy refused to
acknowledge the previous Manager’s OK on the planter boxes. Ron’s continued harassment,
and candy’s continual bitching on ron’s behalf killed my husband with undue
and ridiculous stress. It never stopped – Bob’s life on Earth did.
This is all I have now, of our life together. Some days it's hard to continue living here; real hard.
Continuing to honor my husband’s last request, “Keep the house, Val”
has been hard. candy is still the manager here, and ron is still a tenant here –
though he is no longer my next-door neighbor, thank Elohim. Nearly
3 years later and numerous ER visits (asthma related ER visits from the black
mold/grass complications) I am STILL waiting for candy to do something
about Tessa’s mess next door.
My carport is right next to that mess – it can’t be directly avoided.
Elohim has been faithful to keep me from severe asthma flareups in
my solo lobo sojourn. Elohim is my husband now; I have been incredibly blessed
to have 2 husbands (Elohim and Bob) in my life that love/loved me, and constantly
protected me and looked out for me. I am thankful I did not have to use my
emergency inhaler today while being out there next to the heavily-laden grass
heads while I was washing the car.
Last year I was moving through life in a foggy haze, trying to hang
onto routine to keep me sane following Bob’s exit of this planet – while distancing
my emotions from being totally overwhelmed with the sudden aloneness and raw
heartache. I planted a garden … but wasn’t always engaged as I should have been
– my brain was misfiring and I was constantly dodging financial and emotional
vultures who were taking shameless advantages of my hard situation: those
companies and family members are no longer in my life this year. The garden
last year, wasn’t a total failure, but it wasn’t a celebratory success either: it
just was. It was a sad half-assed attempt.
This year, I’m more engaged. I’m hoping for a better turnout.
Last year, I was frequenting charity themed curbside car washes;
and I wasn’t ashamed to have the car seen anywhere/anytime/by anybody … this
year, those car washes are forbidden by politicized governor decree, and the color
of the car couldn’t even be discerned – it was that filthy.
This year, as noted earlier in this post, that has been rectified …
and there was nothing half-assed about it: I’m more engaged in the present, and
it’s refreshing to know that my body is still capable of strenuous activity. My
own personal curbside car wash will continue ;-)
I’m still adjusting.
But I’m gaining
strength.
I’m grabbing the bull by its horns and forcing it to turn in the
direction I choose – without being gored.
I’m feeling accomplished in many ways/many things.
Finishing up I the garden area, engaging in another 30 minutes of
back-fence-chit chat with Trudy, and admiring the shiny clean gleam of the
Horizon as I stepped up the porch steps to enter the house, I felt
accomplished. I felt pride in my aging body that still has strength to do what
has to be done … and does it without kicking up a royal fit. My heart, though,
still need adjusting – it continues to feed my new life with memories that
causes my eyes to view my new life through tinted lens of what used to be. I
never want to forget the memories of the life I had with Bob.
We didn’t meet our friends in taverns after 1981 – and I don’t meet my friends in taverns now; but this song is reminiscent of my currant life, now. The days I spent with Bob, and the days we spent with old friend were, indeed, “the days”.
That was a wonderful
life.
But that is over
now.
And I want to build
another wonderful life.
It is crucial that I
live another wonderful life.
The two will never be comparable, but it’s important that the new life gains in robust strength.
I can’t allow what was to overshadow what IS.
And just like that … I got an invitation to join friends for a Memorial Day
BBQ on Sunday - despite inslee's shutdown decree; in all my time with Bob, we were never invited to a Memorial Day
BBQ. We weren’t invited to many Holiday shindigs from either side of the
family, and friends just naturally assumed we’d be spending the Holidays with
family.
Video from my recent 2020 Mother’s Day Daytrip – explains why we spent Holidays alone.
I accepted the invite:
I’m going :-D
For the rest of my life, as long as Elohei grants me life, I’m going to enjoy time spent with people who include me,
and want me in their lives.
People who love me and make a place for me in their lives.
I may have lost 24 hours somewhere along this week’s progression
due to the upcoming Holiday (if acknowledging death can be viewed as a
holiday); but my friend’s will keep me on track, and Elohim will have my
back ;-)
I’m in a season of
renewal.
