anniverary

Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of the loss of my fifteen-year marriage. Rough day. I truly could have been happier freezing on the beach rather than being in a quasi-warm house, but I was so wrapped up in my pity party that the thought of going to my refuge didn't occur to me. Not that I stayed home all day. Oh, no, I did, indeed, venture out not once, but thrice yesterday.

I first went to the church I have been attending since April of 2004. Getting ready for church is when I first noticed the day's date: December 21. Last year, it was a Friday, so I wasn't truly prepared for it this year. I was running late, so I didn't dwell on the significance of the date, just wrote the check, grabbed the gifts for the designated Christmas charity, and sped off to church. I arrived just as the minister was beginning his sermon, so I gave the bags of gifts to the church rover and hurried in to find a seat. While listening to the sermon, I decided to step out after the offering, as I had several errands to run before a holiday open house that afternoon. And so I did, leaving and riding out to the cemetery (my Mama's grave). The weather had chilled greatly, so, instead of going to the grocery store (a task already put off all the previous week), I returned home and had a bowl of soup, then set about wrapping more presents for the family gathering to be held on Christmas Eve. Still okay, mostly.

My second outing was to my Weight Watchers meeting... and that's where things went seriously awry. The scale put me at +10.2 pounds. I was prepared for a gain, as I've been badly constipated for the past five days (same as last year AT THIS SAME TIME, as if my body was rerunning a particularly bad program for me). Even knowing that most of that weight would soon be flushed from my body did nothing to soothe me. Rattled, I went in to the meeting room and sat down, late again. The meeting was about food and emotion, of all things. I started to cry and just couldn't stop. Could NOT stop. Wanted to, but could not. So I excused myself and went out to my car, letting all the frustration rush out of me, so I could regain control and get back home. Total disaster.

My counselor last year had said that when feelings of grief wash over me, I should let the flood occur, just go ahead and get it out of my system. Keeping all that torrential energy pent up would be a danger to my health. What truth is in that simple advice.

And, following that prescription enabled me to have a good time at my third outing of the day: the church Christmas party. Of course, it helped that I was amongst folks I knew, all with hugs of greeting, most oblivious to the meaning the day held for me. What a relief to be able to be with people who did NOT know me so well, who did NOT ask me how the day had treated me. Sometimes, acquaintances can be more reassuring than friends, allowing you to be experiencing just another day, much like any other day.

Breathe, dear one, just breathe.