I’ve figured out that until this body recovers, my life is a series of minimums. Minimum amounts of work, minimum movement, minimum excitement, minimum activity in general is the new order. Yesterday I managed one small project and two blog posts. Today, another small project and one more blog post. Then the stitches come out and biopsy results will be revealed. I’m expecting nothing more than clear sailing.
Also today, I’ll be entertaining, but I’m going to ignore my need to dote on people. I have to. I simply don’t have the energy yet. We have guests, who until last night were just meeting us for dinner. They’re now spending the night. I love having overnight guests, but the timing has me worried. I know me. I can’t not wait on them. But in this case, I plan to announce what I need – I need to sit down, I need help, I need to go to sleep when I’m tired. As they say on every flight, secure your own mask first before assisting others.
We’ll be out at dinner tonight. It’s close by, so no fatigue from any long drive. I’m looking forward to a weekend of nothing but sitting. Really. Two great books started and I want to finish one and get the other nearly read. Whatever the people in my orbit need will have to be done without my help. Selfish R Me right now. As it should be.
I will dig into some more genealogy this weekend. I found an interesting twist to my mother’s side of the family. Since she was adopted, we’ve only recently come into the knowledge of all these people. She found a brother she didn’t know she had and we’re still getting acquainted as a family. He said he never knew his grandparents. It would seem to be true, for his and mom’s mother’s (Dorothy) death certificate revealed something jaw-dropping. Dorothy’s mother’s maiden name is there, but her father’s surname is completely different than the one she grew up with. Cue the mysterious music. From my best guess – Dorothy’s mom left this man before Dorothy was four, which accounts for why Dorothy grew up with a different last name than the one on her birth certificate.
Aside from chasing not two but three new family lines on that side, I’m still in the midst of locating and verifying each Gallagher to set foot in Butler County, PA. Historical records have Hugh Gallagher as the culprit who brought my ancestors into that region. I suspect I’m a direct descendant, but I want to make sure he didn’t drag a few brothers to America with him. This is the only Irish line on my family tree that isn’t yet directly linked back to Ireland. Hugh would be that link. But as they say, no one’s family tree is as interesting as your own, so I won’t bore you.
On another note, I’ve been having a bit of up-and-down emotionally concerning the death of the first boyfriend. I did expect some upset, but a month later? It’s why I’ve always been keen on resolving things – you don’t have to carry these types of burdens. Yesterday I broke out into spontaneous tears. Last night I woke up angry at him, and at myself. Note to self: too soon to drag out the high school yearbooks. Give it time.
As you can tell, I’m not working much, so I’m not writing about work. I apologize for the break, those of you who come here looking for help or commiseration. I’ll be back in the thick of it Monday. Meantime, sit back, caffeinate up, and share what’s going on in your life right now.
So, what’s up?
12 responses to “The Minimal Life”
Be good to yourself,
Because our culture doesn't really have a grieving PROCESS, it keeps coming back to bite us in the butt. We're given a day for a funeral and that's it. Grief takes a loooong time to work its way through the system, with ups and downs. It runs like a tide. Also, today is the full moon, so we water signs are especially sensitive to emotional tides right now.
Take it slow and just ride the flow. You'll come out the other side, and there are a lot of people around you to love and support you.
Hey, you deserve the break … from working and from offering advice about it. I miss your What I'm Reading and What's on the iPod updates though. Now might be a good time to bring them back. ;o)
Don't even think about feeling guilty for taking it easy – I'm sure your guests will want to wait on you this time. If anyone dare balk, say, "I have a note from my doctor," then point to that scar.
Even surrounded with loved ones, we still grieve on our own, since we all grieve differently. The one common thread I've noticed through my own losses and watching others grieve is there's what I call the Surreal Zone. For me it lasts about 2 weeks. I guess it's nature's way of cushioning us from the initial shock. We go on autopilot for a few days, then once you think things are back to normal (which they never will be) reality hits, and hits hard and you sob, scream and do what you need to do to get it out – I think that's when the real grieving (and healing) begins.
On a cheerier note: The genealogy on my Swedish side of the family revealed an interesting tidbit. Traditionally, Swedish surnames are very literal. My great-grandfather was the baby of his family. His surname was Larsson but his siblings were all named Gustavsson or Gustavsdottir. No one really knows where Lars came from or wound up and there were no marriage certificates linking my great-great-grandmother to anyone but her late husband Gustav.
On my dad's side of the family, the genealogists uncovered two scandalous Brits: one was a horse thief, the other was a "playboy." I'd have to look it up to be certain, but one of them was chased out of Britain, the other was beheaded. Both were Hungerfords. A former neighbor who grew up in England remembered the Hungerford castle ruins near her hometown (the genealogy mentions those). There is also a Hungerford footbridge crossing the Thames in London. When I was there I decided I had to cross it. I'm terrified of heights, so it was scary: a narrow, railed sidewalk high above the rushing river, at night after a rain, with trains zooming past on one side, and skateboarders zipping through the puddles splashing us. I was glad I crossed it, but even gladder to reach the other side.
I took the day off to go swimming. Okay, not intentionally. We're about 75% flooded here and I'm running around in waders and a raincoat pumping water out of the basement. I have nothing pressing so I have no guilt about taking the day off.
Sometimes it just has to be. I guess mother nature decides it for you when she gets a burr up her behind. It's a little annoying,though, that this rain is going to kickstart tourist season for more mosquitoes. If they'd pay, then I'd say great.
Kick back and enjoy Project Runway, Lori! 🙂
I feel for you, Wendy. I hope most of your things were off the basement floor and the water didn't reach them.
Our flooding was earlier in the summer and a beautiful result was an abundance of dragonflies moving further inland to devour that bumper crop of mosquitoes.
Cathy, you read my mind! LOL
Devon, thank you for that. I think because he was an Aries and I was a Cancer, it was doomed from the start. I'll never understand the "I want you – go away" messages Aries can sometimes send out. So the anger was from remembering thngs from that perspective. Totally true about the moon phase. I'm feeling it in several ways right now.
Okay, Kathy. I'm STILL reading The Skull Beneath the Skin by PD James, and the last song on the iPod was Keep Yourself Warm by Frightened Rabbit. They're my new favorite band.
Paula, the guests canceled. I'm sad because it would've been wonderful to catch up with them, but I'm relieved. I'm exhausted and it's only 3:30. And I LOVE your family history! Think there's any connection to Karl Larsson?
Oh Wendy, no! I'm sorry you're flooded. Oddly, I wish we were. We haven't had rain in over a month. It rained some yesterday, but we're so dry the grass is brown.
Some of our things did get soaked, but nothing I cared about. The only things I was fighting for is the water heater and furnace.
Paula, I wondered where the dragonflies went to. We didn't see too many of them this summer until the middle of Aug. and then they disappeared again about two weeks later. I hope they come back.
Lori, I don't know what's worse. Too little rain or too much rain. Can't we meet in the middle?
I've been keeping pretty quiet. Just now catching up on my RSS reads for the first time in a week. Been trying to tweak my schedule a bit, spending more time w/my son during the day. But I'm finding that I stay up until after midnight to finish work. Yeah, not so great. HOWEVER, my son has been sleeping in, too, so at least I don't have to get up with the sun (& son) so early that I'm a wreck all day.
Waiting to hear on a couple of different projects. They sound promising, but nothing in stone yet.
I am such a genealogy nerd. I really hope to get back to researching my family one day, while Mom & Dad are interested and can tell me the background stories on everyone.
Just a little less than 9 weeks until baby comes, so I've hit that uncomfortable "I just want to be done" stage.
Becky, thinking of you, hon! Nine weeks away is that "Get it over with" stage, isn't it?
You'll find something worth your while. 🙂
Lori- you're scaring me. That great-grandfather's name was either Carl Larsson / Charles Larson. He Anglicized it when he came to the US – did I mention family lore says he had to flea Sweden after an altercation with the police? One story says he killed a policeman, the other story says it was just a fight.
Either way, this great-grandfather had major anger issues and frequently beat his children. He once decked a horse when it was too tired to pull a plow… he then forced some of his kids to pull the plow! My grandma instructed us to never put flowers on his grave. We never have.
Whoa! He sounds like he had a few issues, eh? LOL Love these family stories – much more interesting than "He was a church-going man and loved an occasional beer."
Look up Carl Larsson. He was quite the artist.