jakorte's blog

So, no, I did not share this with everyone. I did cry easily and constantly in the evenings. Eventually, I cried during the day, too. It was suggested I should take some time off work in order to let the medication take effect. I balked at that. The downtime was the hard part. Sit still with nothing to do? Where was the sense in that? Showing up and being busy at work was all that was keeping me going.

We sort of reached a compromise. I wanted three days. I figured that was all I’d need. Since it was Wednesday – I counted off 5 days - Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and included Monday – since I had a return appointment on Monday, anyway. That logic was answered with “We’ll see.” Monday found me compromising again. I was tired, exhausted, lethargic, still weepy. I agreed to down-timing the rest of the week. On Monday, with seven days ahead of me, I was scared. What would I do, what could I do, what should I do, if I wasn’t sleeping or crying?

The thing is I don’t do “nothing” well. Having my movement halted, in any direction good or bad, terrified me. I can’t stay in one place, figuratively and literally. I need distraction; reading, on-line games, crafts. Though, the sad truth was, I had no concentration, no staying power. If I started something, I wouldn’t finish, besides, I truly had no desire to do the things I like to do anyway. An inner pep-talk, some self-convincing, some self-cajoling, and quite a bit of sighing, settled me into a long-time list item. Going through the filing cabinet was a short spurt project I could put aside at any moment - no urgency involved, naps posed no dilemma to continuity.

I opened the second drawer, the one with the older files, and grabbed a random hanging file from the middle. Great, I thought. How freakin’ perfect. I’d pulled out a file housing an envelope of condolence cards. I stared at them for a few frozen moments. I contemplated putting them back, and ignoring them. But, knew I wouldn’t be able to get them out of my head. It’s not like I forgot I had them. I truly thought they were somewhere else, so pulling them out of the file cabinet was a surprise. I considered just throwing them away, but I couldn't. Not without making sure there wasn’t something I might need tucked away in between.

Retreating to the comfortable, lamp-lit corner of my couch, cross-legged, pulled-in, pillow-buffeted, wrap-blanketed; I took a deep breath and plunged in. The first card was from a good friend saying she and her family were laughing over funny Jeff stories. The second was from a Michigan Hot Sauce Club store regular – inside was a goofy picture of him and another regular dressed up for a wedding sporting fake buck teeth. The caption said "I hope this makes you smile." I remembered it did then, and marveled that it did again. The third card carried a two page (four sided) letter. As I reread those wise, wonderful, loving words written 5 years ago, I cried some more, and blessed them for what was written. I did everything those words said I would. Even living up to the prediction that, "It will take a little while, but everything will be ok." Of course, I've managed to completely redefine the meaning of the term "a little while."

I am struck by the number of stretch acquaintances who sent notes, and by the depth of all of them. Committed to finishing up sorting thru keepers and shredders after hours of reading and napping and sometimes needing to reread blurred words, I have two piles. Just then the phone rings. After three listings and some price adjusting, there is finally a potential purchaser for the NASCAR collection. The buyer is from Georgia and missed the last bid time out because he was at Talledega.

Yeah, that seems about right, as does the flat price and his willingness to drive to Michigan to pick it all up in person. All fifteen totes, eight pieces of framed artwork, a used race tire and a few cardboard boxes, will go to an enthusiastic small-time collector and good home. I’m just glad it’s going. I don’t want it back. Maybe this week will be about closure after all.