Hell's Kitchen - Missoula

I had a Tupper Tantrum this morning.  You know what I'm talkin' about.  It happens when you open the cupboard and a piece of Tupperware falls out for the umpteenth time.  It's the breaking point, the last straw, beyond the pale.  It can no longer be tolerated.  I have had it out for that cupboard for a long time.  Things have got to change in "the cupboard with 3 blenders and I don't know if I have a coffee grinder."  I need 3 plastic storage containers, not 30.

The next thing I knew, all the Tupperware was in a big pile in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Tops with no bottoms, bottoms with no tops and lots of miscellaneous kitchen cupboard crap that I didn't even remember I had.  It had taken all of ten minutes to tear it apart and make a huge mess.  I thought I would take my own sweet time putting it back together, in a beautiful, calm, organized manner.  I imagined that, by Tuesday or Wednesday when my daughter Taylor arrived for a 4th of July visit, I would open the cupboard door and it would look like a photo spread in Perfect Home Magazine: this month, featuring "The Merrill home of Missoula, Montana" A place for everything and everything in it's place.

Then the phone rang.  Taylor announced that she would be in Missoula on Monday, or -- what the heck?  Maybe even Sunday.  Wait, that's tomorrow!  Excuse me.  I need to go shove a lot of crap back into the kitchen cupboard before she gets here.




I'm through with you, Tupperware! 
I got one nerve left, and Ziplock, you're gettin' on it. 
Watch out Rubbermaid, your time is coming. 
Who knows? The next to go might be the pots and pans.

Getting by with a little help from my friends



This is my end-of-Missoula-winter look.
 I'd better shed a few pounds and get my legs waxed.

This week my body said "Enough moping."

I started Pilates again with Missoula's best instructor, Avril Stevenson at Studio D. 

I cried throughout the entire first session. All I could think of was the last time I'd been  there, with Roger. (It was October -- seems like moments ago...)We were happy and hopeful then, brimming with energy and good health -- until he got sick again.  I kept imagining I could look over and see him on the mat next to me and we'd share a laugh at our complete absence of gracefulness.

Thank goodness Avril is empathetic.  If she had gotten flustered at my emotional squalls, I would have had to quit.  But she stuck it out with me, kept reassuring me, and didn't let me stop until the session was finished.  Avril says that we hold emotions in our muscles. That certainly felt true.

I have been walking with my head down and my shoulders slumped for so many months now that my neck, shoulders and back ache from the weight of it. It's time for me to stand up straight again.

Thanks to my body for telling me it's time to get moving.  Thanks, Roger, for inspiring me.  And Thanks Avril, for sticking with me.

New Vocabulary Words

A friend told me recently that reading my blog made her sad.  Here's a bit of advice from someone that has been down that road a time or two.  Just say no to sad! 

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I tell my stories because I need to connect with people, even remotely.  Grief is a human experience that we share, or have shared, or will share. There is something to be gained from shared stories, but only the right stories at the right time.  These are the only stories I have to tell right now. If this blog makes you uncomfortable in any way, stop reading it.  Go, do something else and find joy in it.   I won't be offended in the least.

Updates/Recent Discoveries:

• I can't lift the heavy planters that Roger and put on the porch and patio every spring.  Sigh.  One more thing I cannot do by myself.  I had to replace them with lightweight plastic planters.  I am learning to do things in a new way.
• Junk mail and junk phone calls directed at Roger's business are slowing down.  Good.  I'm tired of telling people to take Roger off their call list.
• The bedroom remodel is done.  Life was a chaotic mess for a couple of weeks.  I slept in the guest room while my bedroom furniture was stacked and stashed in every room in the house.  You wouldn't believe the dust created by removing an old cottage cheese ceiling.  By the time I was completely out of patience with the project, it was done.  I am so glad to be in my beautiful new room.  It is clean and serene.  I love sleeping in my own bed.
• I have a new car.  I discovered it's easier for me to manage a regular monthly car payment than  being surprised by large repair bills.  Sorry Roger, but your Volvo had to go.  I couldn't afford to keep it road worthy.  I love that my new Prius feels a lot like my old Celica.  It is reliable and safe.  It feels like home.   (I am still not adventurous enough to push some of the buttons, and I can live without internet connectivity in my car!)
• I have decision burn-out.  How many decisions do we make each day?  I should Google it.  I bet it's a lot.  I bet I've made 10 times the normal number of decisions over the last 4 months.   I don't want any more change.  Right now I just want stability and serenity. 
• I've started reading trashy novels.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that because I've always been a snob about good books.  I don't need to stretch my brain right now.  I need to escape life in 30-minute increments.
• I cry less.  I don't miss Roger any less. 

Those of you who have known me for a number of years will recognize what appears to a new vocabulary in action.  Words I thought I would never apply to myself:  serenity, safety, comfort, reliability, stability, escape.  Yep - those words describe what I need now.  It's amazing what telling our stories can do.  Perhaps I learn more from it than any of my readers do.