O Sacred Head, Now Wounded...

I like going to church. I especially like holidays. Sometimes the hymns are the "hook" that makes it all worthwhile for me.

Let's just say, it is horribly horribly disappointing to go to church ON Good Friday and not sing the one hymn that hooks the holiday for me, that can't really be sung on ANY other day of the year.

For the first time in a long time, I left church with a sour taste in my mouth and a snitty facial expression.

Feh.

Early

I am not a morning person. Markedly so. Just .... not.

My husband cannot sleep past 7am, I hate getting up before noon. He thinks I burn the day sleeping but he's in bed at 9pm out cold and I'm rocking the midnight oil.

Since the surgery, I've been able to sleep a lot better and sleep through the night, which had been something I hadn't been able to do for quite a while. I maybe wake up once a night to pee and that's usually because I drink a lot of liquid around dinner time and it has to make its exit sometime...

A few days over the past week or so I've made the concerted effort to be up early and have gone to the gym with my girl C. I feel I slow her down a lot if we try and walk outdoors, so if we are next to one another on an exercise bike she can go fast and I can go at my pace. She can do 5 miles to my 2, and we never lose track of each other ... it works out great.

This morning was to be a gym day, and I woke up with my knee hurting and swollen... I knew it would be a bad idea to go work it out the way I'd been working it out. So I told C that I wanted to pass on the gym, and she suggested breakfast.

She had a dentist appointment to get to, so she was up and ready anyway... so I agreed.

It was so nice to get out and have breakfast... I'm used to just a cuppa coffee these days. I'm home now, and have the whole day before me to do stuff. I've got boxes of books to unpack, some book cases to move (I need Geoff's help with that, maybe Jess' too) and I have the dishwasher running and the stovetop cleaned.

Getting up early has its benefits.

Shoes

There are some women who have entire walk-in closets set up and organized with their shoes. I've seen them on the TV.

Me? I have

• a pair of New Balance sneakers, 
• a pair of snow/rain boots, with zippers up the side, in black. I think they are made by Totes. 
• a pair of Merrill hiking shoes, 
• a pair of Columbia Sportswear hiking boots, 
• a pair of cheap black flats, 
• a pair of purple Teva hiking sandals, 
• a pair of Teva dressy nice looking sandals, 
• a pair of 80s retro throw-back green elf boots,
• a pair of black leather boots with a chunky heel, which I never wear because even though it is literally a one-inch heel, I fall over,
• a pair of Nike flip flops in brown and pink

For me, that seems like a LOT of footwear. I did this little inventory recently when thinking about job interviews and what I'll need to wear as the weather gets closer. Lucky for me the Teva dress nice looking sandals fit the bill, but ... not until after Memorial Day really.

I'm going to a funeral today, so I put my black flats on. The bottom of the shoe has come apart, and so I threw them away. I started looking at the other shoes. The green elf boots would work... I picked them off, dusted them off (yes, they've been idle so long they are dusty) and went to slide them on.

They won't go on.

My feet are swollen,  by-product of the medical condition I find myself in. Crap on a cracker.

I start eyeballing the black boots with the short heel. They come up about 1/5th my calf. They look really cute, kind of a British Mod period look and feel, like I'd be dancing with Austin Powers if I could pull it off.... But I can't wear them when I'm in good health without falling down, how am I going to walk with them on my feet when my knee is killing me and when my feet are swollen?

The only thing left to do was just put on the sneakers. They are shiny and nice, I only ever wear them to the gym, which literally has been all of 10 times since I bought them. I don't wear them to take the dogs out (hiking shoes or winter boots) because I do not want to get them muddy. They are silver and grey and pink and white. I think they are Susan Komen foundation sneakers which initially went for $100 plus at Olympia Sportswear but I got them for $60 in the fall sale last year. I didn't buy them to wear pink in support of breast cancer, but because they were the only things that were not 80s Neon Glowing Horror colors, which seem to have made an unbelievable comeback for some unknown and/or demonic reason.

I had on a pink blouse, so ... okay.

Driving down the highway, I remembered the other time I wore sneakers to a funeral. My friend Ben's mom had passed away, and there were several of us from the office who decided to go to the funeral. It was a pouring, rainy day and I realized I was going to have to be the one who was the driver. I ran out to my car, in my sneakers and my dress, and tidied up the back seat of the car (at the time, I had small children so the back seat of the car was full of gear, car seats, a ton of kid related crap, and oh ... my dress shoes.

I transferred items into the trunk, grabbing literal armloads of stuff in the pouring rain, to make room for two co-workers to have a semi-clean place to sit.

In the process, I managed to drop one of my dress shoes. I realized this when we got to the funeral (2 hours away).

So there I was. In my sneakers, in my panty hose, in my dress and my long wool dress coat. My co-workers and I had a good laugh about it, one of them went the extra mile and went through all the stuff in my trunk to double check for me ... no dice.

It was more of a memorial service than a funeral. Ben's mom had been cremated weeks beforehand, and this was at some sort of yacht club or country club on the ocean near Mystic, CT. We all walked in, soaking wet, and someone took our coats. We went into the bathrooms to spruce up, and my boss and I were just laughing at how stupid my feet looked.

Walking out into the hall, I got the dirty up and down looks from some of Ben's high school female friends who must have been saying to themselves "who is that frumpy old bag in the sneakers? WTF?" Literally watched some of them eyeball me up and down and giggle with one another, in that Connecticut school girl kind of way, with the hands gently raised to the lips and the check-it-out-over-there eye movements.

It didn't matter.

Ben came around the corner and beamed, smiling at me broadly. He hugged me and kissed my cheek and hugged me some more, thanking me for coming down. He kind of hugged our boss. He held my hand and walked me over to a display of pictures of his mom and the family, and put his arm over my shoulder as he walked us through some of the memories.

I stuck my foot out to show Ben that I was wearing my stupid sneakers, and told them the story of how one of my priceless Payless black flats had slipped out of my arms in the rain, in the transfer. He laughed and laughed and shook his head. I laughed too as I wagged my foot and made an "I'm such a dope" facial expression. By then all 3 of our co-workers who made the trip were with us, and we all had a good laugh.

The looks from the girls that I got after that were even better than before. More hugs from Ben and he went to greet some other guests arriving.

No one cares what you wear to the funeral. They just care that you took the time to show up.

No one noticed my feet today. I was happy to have on the sneakers because my knee hurts from too much fun at the gym yesterday. The only thing that mattered were the hugs from my friends who were there.

ponderings on a Monday afternoon

It is slightly warm out, enough that it smells warm. I like it.

And this is one of those "it sounds good but don't get your hopes up" moments in the job search. In fact, it sounds too good. In fact, I can't believe how good it sounds even if the commute is going to be a bear, a wolf, and a chupacabra all at one time.

I will need a more reliable vehicle.

Not to be too mysterious or anything but, I don't want to say anything lest this is all flash in the pan not gonna happen stuff. Cloud talk, ya know?

In the meantime, lunch.

When the Great Man falls, we fall. We fall...

In the fall, we lost our BSA Troop Committee Chairwoman, Marie. A couple of weeks ago, we lost another great Scouter, and I lost yet another mentor and friend.

Steve was a deacon at our church and was very active in Scouting. 25 years plus active, as a matter of fact. My life got to overlap with his on these two very wonderful fronts, and I got to know him really well in both venues.

A lot of people get their kids through the Scout program and then they quit, phase out after a year or so. Steve got his son through Eagle, it wasn't an easy process, but he did it. They did it. And Steve kept on.

At our church, often times he was a voice of reason. He would think deeply about a situation or a problem. He had great opinions. I found him to be a calm voice in a big storm sometimes. If there was a conflict or problem, I would often say to myself, "I want to know what Steve's take is on this..." 

He died suddenly, unexpectedly, and my heart breaks even weeks afterwards just thinking of how important he was to his family, our church and the Scouting program.

I'm heartbroken because of how important he was to me, and how much he loved my son. We are getting ready to submit Geoff's Eagle project, and I had asked Steve to serve as his project coach. He was elated. He couldn't wait to get this going. And now he's gone.

Steve was the best Boy Scout I know ... because he lived literally by the Scout Oath and Law on a daily basis. Need something done? Steve will be there, a smile on his face and a joke in his heart. He may grumble if it starts raining, but the job will get done. Flat tire on the side of the highway? Steve is that guy who is going to stop and help you figure out how the jack works, and get your car up, tire changed, and back on the road in no time.

There were many events at our church where I rolled up my sleeves and stood side by side with Steve, but there were even more that I passed on and I greatly regret that. I won't get that opportunity again, to live life in service beside a man who did it so well.

At his funeral, I got to be the last person who shared a memory about him. I overlapped with him in church and Scouting so I addressed the Scouting end of things. I had my son come forward and lead those who were Scouts in the Oath and Law, and as Geoff lumbered back to his seat I recalled the best Steve story ever -- the time he helped Geoff get his canoeing merit badge in 2009.

I intended on talking about "Be Prepared," and how Steve's death was something NONE of us could have been prepared for. But to live this life prepared to leave it by loving one another so powerfully, and to do such great things, that the world is in essence changed forever by your being there... and by your passing.

The church was PACKED, and I almost made a joke, which my pastor might not have found funny. "Jesus rising from the dead can't fill these pews this full but man alive, Steve dying packs all y'all in here!" It would have gotten a laugh from that crowd, but ... sometimes you share the joke with your husband on the way home instead.

I told the audience, whether or not they were Scouts or Scouters to print out the oath and law, tape it up somewhere that they can read it every day, and do it. Do the words. Live the words. Do it for Steve and do him proud. There were a lot of smiles coming back at me, and I know Steve would have liked what I had to say.

My friend Jim Infantino has a song where the refrain (in the title here) states that "when the Great Man falls, we fall..." the rest of the song is about a professor he had who was a titan, a role model, a great mentor and leader. The verses don't apply to Steve, but that refrain... gets me every time now when I think of it.

And in my head, I know that Steve would stand behind me and put a hand on my shoulder and tell me get up, and go on.

And I will.

Springings

This winter has been a brutal one around here. The weather has been bone-chilling, the snow just kept coming. Getting sick during the crappiest season of the year was a good idea.

I am starting to feel somewhat better. There are good "up" days and even better days, and days where I literally feel I'm going to die.

Yesterday I took myself to the gym, rode the exercise bike for 2 miles and did all the upper body AND lower body machines. I was there an hour. I broke a sweat, even though I literally have the pin set in the LOWEST setting on most of the machines for weight (i think this is 20 lbs, not sure). There are a few machines in the lower body realm that I had to raise the weight up to 50 or 60 pounds simply because the lowest setting was way too "weak" for me.

Today I am feeling it. Doug just left to go to the gym and asked if I wanted to go and I cringed... no. Maybe tomorrow. A day off would be good.

The big problem right now is my original knee injury from December. Everything surgery-wise is fine and healed up nicely. I'm clear to do a lot.

But my knee hates me so much.

So, today I woke up at 9am, which for me is early. I came down for coffee and goofing off. Doug ended up outside working in the yard and I ended up looking at my kitchen and groaning. The dining table had become everyone's dumping ground for "put this here and we'll figure it out later." Under the table was the doggie bed, which one of my dogs has decided is the "eat a lot of cardboard and tear up boxes on it" bed. The kitchen is a disaster. I started cleaning it, and got it to about 90% before my knee just couldn't take it anymore. Under the table is going to have to wait, and then mopping... oh the mopping that will happen.

I need a new vacuum, so I will go pick one up this week. I have swiffer dusty thingies but can't find the handles that you slip them on. They are in this house somewhere... but where, I'm not sure. I have literally 20 of them.

Geoff and I did a bunch of work in the study. First off was me telling him to take all his camping gear upstairs, which he did. He has a tendency to bring stuff home from a trip and just deposit it in the study, where it sits until he needs it again. He will need it in 2 weeks when he goes on the next trip, and will gripe at me that he "had to schelp all of this crap upstairs and now drag it all back down and blah blah blah..." yeah. do it, deal with it. It BELONGS up in your room, not in the study.

We moved 2 of the 5 bookcases into position. Now I can unpack book boxes. That'll be sweet.

One or two of the bookcases will actually end up in the back porch when we're done but for now -- I need to move boxes OUT of the back porch in order to get the book cases out THERE.

I feel like someday we'll actually live here. Just in time to pack and move again? Who knows.

Anyway. Moving the bookcases was fun because I felt healthy and strong, and Geoff and I did it together, and it was fun. I may be starting to feel like me again. Maybe.