Beltane and the Moon of Mourning
Friday gratefuls: Kate and I after dinner on the Left Bank. Kate and I at the tartan mill in Inverness. Kate and I passing through the Gaillard Cut of the Panama Canal. Hot. Jon making the effort to drive across town last night. Joe’s appointment making. Alan. The Wildflower. Evergreen.
Sparks of Joy: Ishmael. Emily.
Up. Down. It’s a merry-go-round. Grief, that is. Powerful tides sweep into the bay. I cry. Go quiet, stare out the window. Consider some new insight. Remember a detail from our life together. Somber again.
Dinner with Jon. He lost a mother, different, a lot different, from losing a wife. Both. Difficult. We cried a bit.
Then. Pay off the credit cards. Get the death certificates ready for Wells Fargo. Call Social Security. Contact the landscaper for Kate’s extended Iris bed and the Lilacs. Drive into Safelite and get the cracked windshield replaced. Have breakfast with Alan. You know, the stuff.
Then. Wake up at 3:30 after having gone to bed at 8:45. (late for me) Decide, no, I won’t go to Wells Fargo early. I’ll show up at the Psalms class, talk to Mark Koontz (landscaper). After, Wells Fargo to change up the name of the account, safety deposit box.
And, close the Credit Union account. No, not till after I get back from Hawai’i. Contact Emily, Mobile Critters. I want to see her again, talk through details. Which means I have to devote time to the checklist. Joe did a great first draft. Stuff I have to add.
Decide not to nail down my budget numbers until after Hawai’i. I need to do it. But not right now.
Pet Kepler. Still awake. Should I get up? Feed Kep and Rigel. Go upstairs. Or, stay in bed. Not likely to get back to sleep. Get up.
Trying to be calm with myself. Not move into shoulds, could’ves. Mostly successful. Back up behavior fills in though. Worrying. Trying to do too much. Hurry. Finish. Complete. Whoa, guy. Slow. It. Down. Lie will still be here.
Somewhere in the Chilean Fjords