TheBanyanTree: Werewolves in London

[Margaret R. Kramer]

I always feel a little furry when there’s a full moon.  I get a little
crazy, maybe a little more edgy, and oh, that fur flies!

The full moon is especially beautiful in winter.  It stands alone in the
dark sky, outshining all the stars.  It illuminates the half melted crusty
snow and elongates the night shadows.

Spring is marching forward, inch by inch.  Unlike the east and its raging
snowstorm, Minnesota is in the midst of serious high pressure, with lots of
bright sun.  Even though our temps are not quite freezing, the sun now in
late February is powerful enough to melt the snow.  My driveway is almost
cleared of ice.  The snow piles are moving away from the house.  There are
puddles in the streets.

Spring is coming.

But first we have to get through March.

I finally gave my poor dirty car a bath today.  I went to a car wash and
there were five million other cars there, too.  But the carwash workers were
extremely organized and I didn’t have to wait long.  My car blew through the
car wash, all vacuumed and fresh.  The layers of salt, grit, and sand were
washed off and it’s shining black again.

I must have looked like a hopscotch player as I was driving along the
streets.  I was seriously trying to avoid puddles and being sprayed on, so
my car would stay as clean as possible.

I also filled it up.  I so rarely drive anymore, that I haven’t even bought
a tank of gas in February.

I took my now weekly walk around Lake Como today.  The paths were almost
clear of ice and there were more runners and walkers out and about than the
week before.  The lake is still frozen and there were some people in the
middle doing some ice fishing.

Joe is moving to a new apartment.  It’s for 55+ (I’ll join that group later
this year!) and it’s almost brand new.  I think the building was built about
five years ago.  There’s a car wash in the underground garage.  He’ll have a
beautiful and LARGE kitchen with an island.  There are tons of senior
activities, plus the rent is cheaper than where he is now.  It’s a little
further away from me, but still within easy driving range.  He got the keys
yesterday, so later this afternoon we’re going to look at it.


Now I’m beginning my third year without Ray.  His death day was OK for me.
I left work a little early and went out to the cemetery.

There was a family in the section next to Ray’s and I think they knew the
section of whoever they were looking for, but they didn’t know the exact
location of the grave.  Their boys, three of them, from around 8 or 9, to
like 12 were running through the snow filled rows like they were at a track
meet or something.  They were yelling at the top of their lungs and I found
it annoying.

Finally, they left.  And peace reigned over the cemetery.  And I had the
space to myself.

I didn’t feel much different than any other day.  I didn’t cry.  I talked to
Ray a bit.  Read a poem to him.  Placed white roses next to his stone.  Then
I went home.

I had some nice emails from a couple of Ray’s daughters.  They were also
remembering.  I’m glad we have a tenuous connection.  Ray would like that.
He would want me to have a relationship with his children.  It’s nicer to
share our common grief than continue the hostilities.

And all of a sudden, later on in the evening, I just felt this incredible
sense of peace all around me.  I haven’t felt like this since Ray died.  I
can’t explain it, because I’m still sad he’s not here and I miss him like
crazy, but those feelings are not in the forefront of my being anymore.
It’s like this peaceful feeling has settled in my heart and my life isn’t so
bad after all.

I signed up for a gentle yoga class that will begin on Wednesday.  I’ve been
wanting to do a yoga class for a long time now, but I finally found one that
is at the level I need, like very basic, at a time I like, and also not
terribly expensive.  It runs for eight weeks.  I’m looking forward to it.
Somehow the yoga class fits into the peaceful feeling I have right now.

Of course, mixed up with all that peace, is that furry feeling I have coming
from the full moon.

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

Love is a symbol of eternity.  It wipes out all sense of time, destroying
all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end. 
-Unknown