It was a day full of reminders.
It started badly—or at least unhappily—when Ivy accidentally fell off the bed, which woke up Coco, so when she started barking that obviously woke me too. Before 6am. So this marks the third day this week when we got up way too early. I had a rough couple of hours that mostly consisted of me sitting and wondering why I even bother with anything. What’s the point of a routine, why go to work or do laundry or take care of my bills, or whatever. It was a rough time. What I needed to do was stand up, take a shower, take my medication, and eat breakfast. Once I’d done those things, I felt considerably more able to care about anything else. It was an important reminder that I don’t have to feel passionate about eating or showering or taking my medication, but I need to make them happen anyway.
I worked for a few hours, and got some good things accomplished before 9am. Which was, again, four hours after I got up, ugh.
Jessie came and did her thing, and I got reminded of how happy it makes me when I walk around my house after she has cleaned it every week. I just marvel at the clean smell, the little touches and flourishes she puts into her work, and how well-organized she ends up making my space. I try my best throughout the week, but when she’s spent a couple of hours here, my house is genuinely at its best. I had to text her later this afternoon to tell her just how much I appreciate what she does for me.
A friend came over just to bring me some apple cider, which she bought because she wanted to make me happy. That reminded me of how much it means to me when folks think about me even when I haven’t reached out to them.
Then I went to lunch on a patio with another friend, so we could enjoy the beautiful weather. I’d already spent a little time at a park next to the lake, which was lovely. My time spent with this friend reminded me of how much I love spending time with people who love me and also love Kellie. I’ve seen a lot of folks who find themselves full of despair after a few weeks or months pass and they get told by their support system that they need to stop mentioning their lost partner all the time and try to move on. I don’t have that problem, and it’s incredibly meaningful to me when I can reminisce about her with someone without them getting uncomfortable and changing the subject.
After that, I went to my primary campus and spent a while troubleshooting some tech issues with one of the social work adjunct instructors. She’d had some trouble with the microphones in the room during her first class this week, and I was glad to work through the glitches with her and help her get more comfortable with the different system in her new classroom. She was so grateful for my help, and I was reminded of some of the really challenging times I had while working for a few different universities back when I was an adjunct myself. I don’t see it as a heroic thing for me to dedicate a few hours to a task like this, but it can be a role that comes with very little support. It’s pretty important to me to not treat our adjuncts that way, because I remember how hard that can be, and also because I know how much that affects the student experience in the end. I could not appreciate all the social work adjuncts more, and there’s no way I could teach all these classes without them. They’re incredibly important to the student experience in my program, and I cannot tell them enough how much I appreciate them. A little support isn’t anything compared to everything they do for me.
When that was done, I played with the dogs and relaxed before deciding to go to Cleveland for a limited-release mac and cheese doughnut at Brewnuts (along with a freshly-squeezed lemonade).
I also browsed at Visible Voice books again, and was once again struck by how much I love their upstairs area. It’s perfect for chilling and reading a book. My time in Cleveland reminded me of the last time I went to Brewnuts, with Kellie and another of our friends, after a great day at the Cleveland Flea. That was a special time, and the memory made me happy.
Later on, still another friend sent me a wonderful video of her and her kids singing their version of The Losing Side by Grace Petrie (the last song we played at Kellie’s celebration of life). She spoke about how the song makes her think of Kellie and how much she loves her and tries to be like her—this whole exchange was so precious to me. It reminded me that Kellie’s legacy continues to live on in so many of us, not just in my heart and mind and soul. I cannot tell you how often I start to think that I’m the only one who still remembers and treasures Kellie, but that is absolutely false.
So from the darkest depths to the greasiest of foods to the warm glow of love and support and gratitude, it was a day full of reminders. Full of feelings, too. And now it’s time for the weekend, and with it, rest.
Take care of yourself this weekend. I will, too, if I have any say in the matter.
Matt