The Sunday School class I taught went well, I think. Several people congratulated me afterwards, and Barb said,
"Were you nervous?"
"You didn't act nervous. You acted very relaxed."
Of course, it helped that I was talking about William Blake, whom I knew something about, and unhesitatingly called,
"A nut---albeit an interested, talented nut. Sort of like the Shirley McClaine of his day."
I found the transparency projector without any problem and showed slide after slide of his BOOK OF JOB on the wall....
I really can't say how I'm going to do this holiday season. At one point Barb and I had talked about ignoring Thanksgiving altogether. The next thing I knew, she had bought a big turkey. As she put it,
"I might as well keep busy."
...And it's true that both Brian and myself dearly love dressing.
The actual---I hate to call it "anniversary", it sounds like we're celebrating it--of Jamie's passing will be a week from tomorrow. At that time I will be very busy rehearsing my presentation to give in front of my CEO and the Executive Committee for my Six Sigma certification.
The busier the better.
Yet---there's that four-day weekend. Am I dreading it?
Not ....at the moment. I'm watching myself for signs, though.
There was a little--if not finality---at least comfort---in the ritual we observed for Jamie's birthday. I don't say we're totally at peace. I don't think we ever can be.
Come November 27th, I might want to come home and curl into a little ball...as I did that night when Jamie died.
When Jamie died....
That's why I haven't altered my look for November. I can't think of anything that isn't...either ghoulish or too light-hearted. I can't decide. Not this month. I can't bring myself to change...because I can't decide.
It's like I'm learning to walk again. Like I've been injured, and learning to walk, with a cane. Except I'm learning to--instead of walking---I'm learning to enjoy the holidays again.
Hobbling through the holidays.
I can spend the time feeling sorry for myself or spend the time not dwelling on it overmuch, while observing. Not forgetting---not just letting it overwhelm me.
It sounds good. It sounds brave.
Let's see how well I do...in the next week.
Y'know, that's the weird thing about doing a journal like this one. I leave a record behind. Only what I want to leave, true...it's not like a webcam, or living in a glass house, where people can peek in whether I will or no. Yet...
I can read entries from a year ago, and I can be complaining about Jamie, with no idea what's about to happen. I want to shout at myself sometimes,
"Treasure what you have---while you have it!!"
It's a bad sign when you want to shout at yourself. Especially your past self.
Wish me luck this coming week.
I'll need it.