It’s been a month of idling and waiting to see if Marika would be approved for a much needed hip replacement, when it might happen, and how long the recovery would be. Without any of this information, I’ve had to find ways to be OK with not doing, planning, or even knowing when we’re leaving, or where we were going.
That’s a pretty big ask for a person who loves to plan and know the future.
So, while Marika went to her medical appointments for her face and eyes, did physical therapy, changed her diet, and lost 30 pounds, I spent most of last month watching Hulu and Netflix, riding my bike, playing games online with friends, and keeping up with the laundry, dishes, vacuuming and washing the floors.
We did have fun shopping for the fabric to have the sofa and bunk cushions reupholstered in the RV. And we’ve been spending lots of play time with our new dog, Tillie.
Back in December, Marika and I started looking at online rescue sites for a dog. After several failed meetings with other dogs, we brought Tillie home on January 10. She’s about two, originally from Rocky Point, a beach town in Mexico. She was taken to a rescue there, had puppies and was then spayed, then brought up to a local rescue in Phoenix where we adopted her.
It has been sheer delight to have her puppy love energy in the house. She’s smart, quick to learn, loves car rides, and will do anything for treats and pets. And she loves all kinds of squeaky toys. She’s great at chasing a ball, and has even learned to bring it back. And when she’s done playing, she’ll sit for a minute, gnawing the ball, then run like the wind with it, around the yard, into the house, onto the sofa, out the door, back inside, and down the hall, then back out into the yard. Like I said, sheer delight.
Last weekend we picked up the RV from storage, packed up the fridge and some belongings, and took Tillie to a favorite state park campground two hours north of Phoenix for a quick camping trip. She found her spot on the sofa, and was a fine traveler.
She loved all of the smells, but is not a fan of peeing in public places. And we need to practice getting out of the RV. It only took a few times for her to learn the car routine, and now she knows to wait while she gets buckled in and out of her harness. And she knows to wait until she gets permission when the car door opens. Not so much with the RV. As soon as I started down the steps, she tried to follow. We were only there for two days, so I’m sure, with practice, she’ll learn her manners.
But it was a great getaway for me, to be in the quiet, to be able to hear the birds and the neighbors’ conversations. I was able to let go a little deeper, and it felt so good.
And then we were home, and the week was suddenly filled with my own endoscopy (routine checkup), and Marika’s pre-op appointments and getting all the supplies she will need after her hip replacement surgery this Wednesday.
Suddenly, I was emotional, tired, and crying unstoppable buckets.
I thought I had been doing a good job of feeling my feelings of grief as they came up. I’ve been though all of the drawers and closets in my parents’ house, and things are sorted and stacked for sale. I’ve been sharing stories of my mom and dad, gifted a favorite pitcher and glasses to a cousin, and finally figured out that I don’t need to keep my grandfather’s entire rolltop desk, just the drawers for future art pieces.
I even joined a friend for an intimate art making class called Holding Space for Grief Using Color. It was uncomfortable, and I wanted to quit several times, but I stayed with it and created a very beautiful book.
But this past weekend, as I was readying for an online writing class, I was filled with anxiety about what might come up, what I might write. I had been dreading the class for days, and even considered cancelling. I had steeled myself so tightly against my feelings, barely breathing into my belly, that on the morning of the class, I tweaked my back.
Of course, I didn’t see the connection right away. It’s been at least two years since I’ve had a thing with my back, so it caught me off guard. I wanted to blame it on the lumpy mattress we’ve been sleeping on. And then my dear writing teacher friend Laraine Herringreminded me that feelings are so big sometimes that they will, of course, overwhelm us and take over. But if we can name them, even if it’s just with just a color, or sound, it moves them out of our heads, so we can observe, examine, and begin a conversation with them.
The more I talked with the pain, the more obvious it became that, while my instinct was to breathe shallow so it wouldn’t hurt, what I really needed to do was breathe deeply into my belly, to give my back the full support it needed.
And as I breathed, the sharpness moved a bit and I realized I was terrified that Marika would die in surgery. Because last year, when we were having some big relationship issues, I considered leaving. But it was too hard, and so I wished for her to die, so that it would be easier.
This, in and of itself, is a shameful thing to feel, to wish someone you love dead. The thing is, a part of me believes I really have the power to make it happen. Because in my life, I have manifested so many amazing things with the powers of my thoughts. And because when I was 6, I wished for my brother Lenny to die, and he did. And so I was terrified.
As I listened to myself tell this story, I breathed deeper and slower into my belly, and my back, and then into my heart, giving me the much needed reassurance that I am safe and loved and strong, and that all will go well with Marika’s surgery.
I spent that day resting on a heating pad, crying lots of tears, releasing, recognizing, writing, and being gentle with myself and my feelings. I was able to step back into life the next day, feeling strong enough again to support Marika and the family through these next few weeks.
After the surgery, Marika will spend the night in the hospital, then come home to this perfect rehab house, with wide hallways, no loose carpets, and, yes, my parents already had the high toilet seat commode, and walker that Marika will need for her recovery.
She’ll be healing and recovering for a good six weeks, so now we have some time before I need to schedule the estate sale, sell the house, and plan our route out of town. And that feels good. I don’t need an exact date, just a pin in the calendar that says SOON. Now is for focusing on Marika’s full healing and recovery. And we even had two friends over for a Walker Decorating Party, so now Marika will be surrounded with love as she walks her way to recovery.
UPDATE: All went well with Marika’s surgery and she is moving and grooving with her walker.
