TheBanyanTree: Directions Home

[Margaret R. Kramer]

8/31/98
Hi love:

I liked this, it goes to prove that I make my “mark” here.  You know that I
really enjoy doing it for you AND me.  I love you too much.
DAMN I LOVE YOU!
Ray

The potluck was much more fun than I thought it would be.  David’s house was
beautiful, but not overwhelmingly so.  I loved that his kitchen still had
the original cabinets (looks like the house was built in the 50s) and an old
dishwasher.  He has a Steinway baby grand in his living room, which all of
us were too shy to play.

We drank wine and laughed and talked.  We talked about a lot of other stuff
besides our spouses.  We’re further out in our grief process now and most of
us are starting to return to the real world.  We want to spend time with
people again.  We’re frustrated at our single status, but most of us, even
David, are entertaining forging new relationships.

And what of my new relationship?  Well, Joe could be part of this group if
he wanted to be.  He knows all these people from grief group.  I invited him
along, but he didn’t want to come.  We’re all educated, well traveled, and
articulate people and he’d fit right in if he would let himself.

He’s jealous of David because he knows David is better looking and richer
than he is.  I constantly get blasted about how “middle class” I am, yet Joe
seeks out middle class people for friendship.  Well, anyway, he missed out
on a nice evening.

We had vegetarian chili, bread, salads, and my great pumpkin cake dessert
with cream cheese frosting.

Then we had remembrance ceremony.  We lit candles to represent ourselves.
Then each of us read a poem or said something about our spouse.  We lit a
candle to represent them.  It was very nice and quiet and none of us cried.

I left around 10:00 pm.  I don’t know the western metro very well, it’s like
a different country to me, but I managed to find my way home in the dark.  I
missed Ray’s terrible navigation skills.  I miss even his worse traits.

I called Joe on my cell phone when I left David’s house.  He was pissy right
away.  “Well, how was his bed?”  Grrrr . . .  He wondered who was in the car
with me.  (There was no one.)  Then I told him I had a couple glasses of
wine and he accused me of being drunk.  You see what I go through?

But believe it or not, our relationship is gradually winding down.  Each of
us is stepping away from the other in small baby steps.  For me, it’s kind
of like quitting smoking.  What finally worked to get me off of the cancer
sticks was to eliminate one cigarette a day until I finally went cold
turkey.  Cold turkey is coming very soon for Joe and I.

I’ve never told the grief group people about my relationship with Joe.  When
Joe and I first started our affair, it didn’t seem appropriate, because we
started so soon after our spouses’ deaths.  Now, it’s OK to tell people, and
some of our closest friends know, but with the grief group people, even
though there was opening in the conversation last night where I could have
brought it up, I didn’t.

What’s on tap for today?  Well, it’s going to be a beautiful, sunny fall day
here in Minnesota.  I’m going to make breakfast, read the paper, and then
head to the club and work out.

After working out, I’m going to going to the cemetery.  My co-workers gave
me a cupcake with a black cat figure on it and I thought Ray might like it
the little black cat, since he got our black cat, September, seven years ago
as a kitten and brought him home.

I need to wash and clean my car.  I’m going to put away my Halloween stuff.
My older grandson ate so much sugar on Halloween that he was flying around
the house without a broom.  He was sick yesterday and took a five hour nap.

Then I’m going for a walk.  It will be dark probably, but that’s OK.  I’m
not afraid.  Ray’s always with me.

When I cleaned out the flower van last winter, I found some of my old emails
from 4/11/98 giving Ray directions to my home when he was coming to live
with me.  Ray had moved those emails from one of his cars to the next (he
had several cars while he was here).  It’s like he kept those emails with
him so he would always have the directions home.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com

For what is it to die,
But to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?
~Kahlil Gibran
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