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Discombobulated

Sunday, June 5, 2011

I have been rather melancholy most of the day today.  Similar to my blog called, “Random Grief”, I have felt out of sorts in all different areas today.  One word that Michael and I used to like to use was discombobulated.  Not only is it a fun word to say, it sometimes feels like the perfect word for the situation.  It can mean confused and disconcerted, or unsettled, thrown off balance.  I felt discombobulated today.  His absence was obvious in so many places.  Sometimes I just feel awkward.  I had countless moments today where my mind was far, far away from the present moment and I was thinking about Michael and how different my life is now without him in it.  There is a word in the book of Psalms, that my sister uses often, which describes what I did often today. It is selah… .It means pause, think about it.  It seemed that was all I was doing, but it was going on privately in my mind in the midst of all of my actions and activities today.  I am getting fairly good at crying on the inside or hiding my tears that have welled up in my eyes.

Michael Anthony played in his first big tennis tournament today.  His match was at 8:00 this morning.  I had sent a text to family and friends inviting them to come so that he would have a boost of confidence by having many supporters there to watch him.  Most of the boys there had a dad with him, watching with a coach’s intensity.  Michael Anthony had me, Julia, a friend of his from out of town, a friend of mine who plays lots of tennis and warmed him up before his match, two uncles, the church administrator, and a man from our church, who taught him in his Communicants class and had become fast friends with him.  He did not win but played some great points.  He was quickly discouraged in his first set but began to focus better on the second set.  He has lost some of his will to fight.  He was ready to go home and let his mind relax onto other things.  I wanted to go to the referee or the dad of the young boy he was playing and say, “Have mercy…. He has had a rough three months.  This is not only his first tournament, but he just lost his dad, his best friend, his ‘bud’.  Can’t he earn some points just for the fight of being here?”  When we got home, he wanted his favorite salad.  I was happy to make it for him but when I got out the salad spinner, I suddenly began to move in slow motion as my heart saddened and my mind went to all of the times I have used that salad spinner for family dinners while Michael was still with us.  I have not cooked in three months.  People have generously brought us meals and I have not wanted to cook.  I used to make salads almost everyday.  The last time I used it was his last meal with us on Monday night, February 21.  I made manicotti and a salad.  We ate family dinners almost every night around the table with a fresh salad.  The salad spinner reminded me of life in the kitchen with Michael in the house.  I took my time…. Selah…. I paused and thought about it.

After taking care of his salad, I realized I needed to go buy some perennials to plant next week in the garden…. Which made me think of how different my Saturdays are now.  It is strange not having another adult to consult or work my schedule around.  Michael always had such high expectations of Saturdays.  He loved them.  He was so motivated and brought me along for the ride.  We each had things we wanted to accomplish but we stepped into each other’s task to help whenever it was necessary.   Today, I was able to just leave and go get the plants.  Most people would see that as a positive, but it made me feel a little discombobulated.  He would have normally been working out in the garden and would have called me while I was at the gardening store to add some things to my list or get my opinion on what he was doing.  It was just me.  It felt lonely.  I paused and thought about how different and quiet it felt for a Saturday.

This afternoon was the girls’ dance recital.  They both take hip-hop.  I was overwhelmed in the beginning of their number and fought the tears from overflowing.  I had to blink them away to keep my vision from being blurred.  I could not believe the years that had passed and how the hip-hop had come back around in our lives.  I used to teach hip-hop dance.  Now, after I have “retired”, my girls are on stage taking it from someone else.  (Julia is too young to even remember watching me dance. Mia took from me when she was 8 and 9 years old.) Michael would have been so proud and happy watching them dance.  I was proud.  They were enjoying themselves on stage and I knew what that felt like.  I paused and thought about the passing of years.

I took them out to eat for dinner, along with my 26-year-old niece.  As we were sitting at a table on the patio of a restaurant in our neighborhood, I looked up at the old brick building that had been restored.  My thoughts went immediately to Michael.  As I looked at the way the edges of the building met, I knew what Michael would have said about the building.  It was done right.  He would always point out architectural details and explain to me what was right about it and what was wrong about it.  He wanted me to know and appreciate the difference.  I remember when we took all of the kids to Italy, along with his parents, he was teaching  us all of the time.  Classical architecture was his favorite.  I think he felt this way because it is so balanced, orderly, brilliant, strong, and timeless.  I was missing hearing his thoughts and perspective as we sat outside.  I enjoyed my meal and conversation with the girls, but my mind was in another place.  On the inside I was pausing and thinking about it.

There were many other times throughout the day that caused my thoughts to drift and take me back to my life with Michael.  Actually, it seemed that they were continuous.  By the end of the day, I was extremely tired and wanted to quickly go to bed to end this day of melancholy reminiscing.  Situations were continually presenting themselves to me that pointed my thoughts to him ,and our life together, as well as our lives in his absence.   A whole day of feeling discombobulated, out of balance, unsettled.  Now I am pausing and thinking about it.  My Saturdays may feel like this for awhile.

1 comments:

Anonymous Says:
June 6, 2011 at 4:20 AM

Dear Jene, have been meaning to write you a while now. I am reading your blogs as you post them, every time. My heart is really hurting for you and the kids every time I read about your journey and the struggles along the road.I tear up and cry with you, even though we are so very far away. Please know that I am praying for you guys every day, several times, as I am prompted by the Holy Spirit. May the peace of God that surpasses all understanding continue to surround you and comfort you in a supernatural way. love to all, Hilmari xxxx

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