It seems like I am doing okay. I can almost convince myself that I won’t need the grief support group by the time September finally gets here. But I am fooling myself. I know that I’ve just pushed aside my feelings to deal with the here and now.
The thing is that there is just so much going on. Getting laid off from work forces me to get things in order sooner. So I am working to cross things off of my list of “Things to do.” Currently, that mode is working for me. It has brought on a new efficiency.
I posted the desk for sale on an online bulletin board, set things in motion for selling the motorcycle, and I donated the truck to charity. I am a little sad, but also relieved that these things are finally getting done. It feels like it is time. But I realize that I am not ready to tackle everything.
I ventured into Tom’s closet again today. I am finding that I am still attached to each of the remaining items of clothing. There was the shirt that I bought him just before things went bad, the blue sweater that made his eyes appear even more brilliant, and the jacket that the boys got him for Christmas. It’s going to be hard to part with these things. So, I’ll let it wait until later (or until never).
My running has never been just another thing to do on my list, but the efficiency mode is affecting this area too. I continue to look ahead to the weekends, and modify my running schedule to accommodate the kids’ plans. It is just part of the package. With the long runs getting longer and the hard runs getting harder, I don’t want to just fit my runs in between dinner and the dishes. The timing needs to work.
Today I stayed home from work in order to watch the truck leave the house. That was the plan but by the time lunch rolled around, I realized how silly it was to have to *see* the truck off. It wasn’t like it was going to give me one last good-bye.
But since it took me a while to get unstuck I was able to run in the morning. The cool morning air, and the near-empty track were a wonderful treat. Although my mind wasn’t ready to part with the truck, it was ready for a good hard run.
I was determined to hit the paces that Coach noted in the schedule. I ran hard, and whenever my mind began to wander to things that have been troubling me, I pushed off the thoughts and told myself to focus on the moment at hand. I demanded of myself to be in the here and now.
It worked. I am proud to say that my 800s were so close to the given pace that I chalked it up as success. I gave myself a pat on the back (even emailed Coach), and got ready for work.
Driving away I glanced at the little red truck in the driveway, knowing that it would be gone when I returned. In that moment, in *that* here and now, I was sad. I cried all the way to work.