Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Sunny and hot
It feels like I’ve lived a lifetime in the past few days. Some good; some not so great.
First and foremost, the Mermaid Ball: the evening was lovely, in spite of the usual issues with Waverly Oaks. The space is wonderful, everyone looked great, we made some decent money, I think. Unfortunately, the food was less than stellar, especially for the price, and there were, again, issues of us paying for space, but it being used by others.
I was also delighted by the fact that a photographer from the Boston Globe showed up. I’ve been trying to get one there for five years! The pictures were great, too, and he was delightful to have around.
The costumes were delightful and creative, and everyone looked beautiful. I was especially
We had a lot of help getting everything down, which meant we left around midnight instead of 2 AM.
The cats got me up early. Poor little Violet was very sick, so I tried to find something that worked to make her feel better.
Then, we got the news that a family member in Maine died. He was 98 and had been ill for a very, very long time, but it’s still always a loss. I moved Monday’s meeting, reminded people of Tuesday’s deadlines, warned them at work.
We wanted to leave Saturday, but Violet was too sick. I was up with her all day Saturday. Sunday, we couldn’t get off Cape because of the traffic – 18 mile backup by 8 AM, and it didn’t get better all day. I spent most of the day lying on the floor next to Violet, feeding her Pedialyte and being with her while she slept. She seemed better in the evening, so we continued to pack. I had about 2 hours of sleep again, up on and off with Violet, although she continued to improve.
We left at 5:30 on Monday morning. Even then, traffic in Boston was a nightmare, but once we got through Boston, we were okay. We got there in time for the funeral, which was a graveside service. There were only 12 chairs and about 70 people, so that was a little difficult, but the celebrant was terrific, and the military component of the funeral, complete with flag folding and presentation, was very, very moving. I really want to write about these guys.
The post-funeral reception was at Cole’s Farms, with a big buffet. There was a display of photographs, which brought back lots of laughter and good memories.
We cleared up, went to the store to grab something for later, and then, pretty much collapsed. We did some more visiting in the evening, but had an early night. I spent a lot of time walking around the house and grounds – a place of sanctuary for me for over 40 years. The end of an era.
It makes me sad. I know life goes on and all that, but I’m still sad. I will miss him, and I will miss the security that he and this place in Maine represent.
Up early on Tuesday morning. Got some writing done, which at least put me in a more focused frame of mind. We said our goodbyes, knowing nothing will be the same, and off we drove.
Traffic sucked again around Boston, but we were lucky enough to miss a big accident by about ten minutes.
Violet is a little better – not cured, but a little better. I sat on the back deck at night and just let myself be sad. Grief and the shifting dynamics around death are a process, and we don’t have a workable structure for it. We have a funeral/memorial/reception, and then we’re just supposed to act like nothing happened. The Victorians went a little too far with mourning, sometimes, but at least there was a ritual-filled process to it.
Seriously, I feel like I’m hitting my second Saturn return early. I hit the first one early, so it makes sense the next go-round would be early, too.
Still not a great night’s sleep last night. Up early, got a little bit of writing done, but not happy with it. Headed in to work. Technically, we’re closed today, for painting, but heaven forbid anyone should respect the “closed” sign. The lack of boundaries – which indicates the lack of respect for our work – just infuriates me.
I’m also really unhappy because a deadline for the wine event that was yesterday was missed, putting it in jeopardy. I’m so sick and tired of people acting like deadlines don’t mean anything.
Hoping I’ll be able to get some work done tonight. I’m also getting really sick and tired of always being the one expected to change MY schedule because writing isn’t “real work.”