Monday, March 4, 2013

Juicing Power

I was invited to participate in a new 6-week bereavement group focused on reflective writing expressions as part of healing grief work.  Our first session was today.  We're an intimate group of 5 women, all widows.  I am both the rookie widow and the youngest of the group.  It makes me sad.  Sad that it's too soon, too young, too new, etc.  Too much.  We were asked to make a list of items that help us remember our loved ones.  We then spent a few minutes writing about it.  Here's what I came up with...

I'm loaded with idiosyncrasies, its part of what makes me me.  Heck, aren't we all?   During the heyday of the TV show Friends, Boomer and Dara regularly likened my fastidious ways to Courtney Cox's character, Monica Gellar.  Every now and again they'd loving throw a "Monica" tease my way.

SMO & Boomer - 2007
Boomer got the "full Monica" when I moved into the loft with him in 2007.  Sometimes he found my passionately precise nature endearing, sometimes it drove him crazy.  He loved me nonetheless.  I'd joke with him that in those heightened moments when I'm at my most quirky it's ALWAYS the best time to tell me you love me.   Without fail Boomer rallied.

The flip side was how rhyme or reason was ever-elusive to me in understanding Boomer's approach to storing or organizing things.   For example, I was fanatical over how his cell phone would end up plugged-in for charging anywhere the mood struck.  Bathroom was too frequently the silliest, the kitchen counter most popular. What was so wrong with a single location - - like our office?  After all, that's where mine was. 

When Boomer went into the hospital I took command of his cell phone.  Mine was starting to poop out and not processing text messages well.  When it came time to make calls, using Boomer's phone made making those calls a little easier.   The day after Boomer died, his phone needed recharging.  I was going berserk trying to find the power adapter.   Logical (to me) places turned up nothing.  Where the hell did he put it?   Mind you, my husband has just died, so please magnify my frustration 10-fold for grief-effect.   It's no where.  I can't find it.

The next day, I was putting food away that generous friends had brought to stock this widow's cupboard in hopes she'll eat something.  I open the right door to the pantry and there on the shelf, next to the juicer...was Boomer's cell phone power adapter.  I broke out in a blend of laughter and tears.

Soon after, my cell phone totally crapped out and it became necessary to get a new one.  The mental skill required to acclimate to a new smartphone was more than I was yet capable of.  Misplacing things is another common experience for widows in deep grief.  Ironically, I found it best to leave the phone on the kitchen counter; I'll pass by it 100 times a day, assured it won't get lost  Keepin' it simple (read Simply Remedial Living) made sense amidst my semi-comatose brain.

On a day of mild lucidity I caught myself behaving strangely.  I was reaching into the pantry to "put away" my cell phone power cord next to the juicer....just as Boomer wants me to (read Mood Ring Magic).   Now that's some wild juicing power.  It brings me joy.   And for now, I'm sticking with it.

Thank you Boomer.  And yes, I understand Honey - - joke's on me.  I'm laughing too with my kleenex in hand.

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