Saturday, February 27, 2016

Shaping a New Life

It’s a cool, clear day with a low in the seventies. I love winter in Puerto Rico. Saturday is my home day to do chores, so naturally I’m on the computer. Stretching and cracking my spine, having a smoothie; it’s good to be retired. After working a lifetime, my wants and needs fill my days. Sing halleluiah!
In my fifties my body fell apart, everything hurt. My exercise program has improved my strength, but I’m still a big fat girl. It’s scary to think how fat I was; fat and happy that’s what I was. In the beginning I was just a bowl full of jello, and now I have nice muscle under a layer of fat. Bat wings and belly are a fright, but so what.
One of the things I’ve discovered about my new self is that I’m not as outgoing; the old me would talk to anybody, any where. Sometimes it feels as if I’m shy, but I know myself better. I’ll talk to women before I will men. When I talk to men here, I get the impression that they think I’m hitting on them, so I stay to myself, especially, at the gym. Hell, I was one of those idiots who say hello to people in parking lots, so this is a big change for me.
Filled out a form that required the choice of single or married; I checked married. What’s up with that? My identity for all of my adult life has been married lady. I’m alone; why can’t embrace single lady?
Last Sunday of the month jazz in Condado happens tomorrow, so lawn chairs are loaded. And since I love free jazz, I’m going to New Orleans end of next month for the Tennessee Williams Lit fest and the French Quarter Fest, which is music in the streets. I won’t be a face alone in the crowd; I’m volunteering.
By Water Bar
Congo Square
The trip finale will be a leisurely drive down Florida Gulf coast on the way to Orlando for my flight home. Fifties style motels are calling my name. I’m going to do it; wish me luck. My best to you, Tricia

Monday, February 15, 2016

Grieving, Healing, Wondering

When you have lost someone you love, grieving takes as long as it takes; for me it took about two and a half years. I’ve thought about our lives, the good and the bad; and come to peace with my dear husband’s death.
For me grieving was a process of facing all the every day things I’d be doing without him for the rest of my life and remembering the happy times, while facing up to all the shit either of us did wrong. I pondered and cried, until I’m pretty well cried out on the subject. This doesn’t mean I don’t get melancholy at holidays; these are sadness or gladness days depending on how strong, or where my head is on the given day.
To me the coming to grips with mistakes I’ve made in life along with my better choices needed to be part of this process. Oh, hot damn, when I make a mistake, I’m prone to whoppers, but thank God, when I made this tally I didn’t come out realizing I was an asshole or worse yet, married one. A friend came to the conclusion she had married an asshole who never loved her; it totally broke this woman.  
The first year I lost almost forty pounds without trying. As I’m sure most of you are thinking, the second phase of mourning calls for binge eating; yeah, but I’ve kept it to a minimum, so I weigh maybe tens pounds less than when Kirt died, but I’m eight sizes smaller because with just a couple of lapses I’ve been lifting weights at a gym for two years.  My resolution to do something for myself on a regular basis paid off.

Movies and the gym gave me the only relief from thinking about my husband and the life I’d lost; I grieved obsessively. Later travel helped; sitting in plazas or squares, watching people, wondering about their lives gave me space to construct a new life for myself.
In the grieving process you may have noticed that every time you do something positive to help you feel better something major, but everything felt major, goes wrong to keep you in the negative zone. Car trouble, family, pets dying, pretty much all usual life shit just pulled me back into the abyss. 
For me solving problems without becoming upset is a clear sign I am healing. So what do I do with x number of years of a new life?