My husband has been away all weekend, which means I got to watch two romantic movies he can't tolerate and had soup for dinner, and got up late and generally felt like I was off duty. I'm not saying he wants me on duty, it's just the way I feel. I'm such a compulsive caretaker that if anyone else is in the room I do my rescue thing, or did, until I began working on my practice in earnest. It's paradoxical how you have to take care of yourself to truly help another being. I have more genuine, heart-felt interactions when I'm there to help than I ever did when I was busy rescuing and assuming I could change other people's lives. Now I feel I have a choice and what I do is proceeded by the right motivation. But my husband and I have such a long history that the tug is always there and must be resisted. This weekend - voila! no resistance.
Yesterday my friend and I attended a memorial service for a neighbor. It was beautiful, the rain held off, the service was gentle and loving. My friend gave one of the three eulogies. She was a colleague and she said just the right things. The other two were his from childhood best friend and his older daughter. The setting was lovely, and we were decked out in the prescribed Hawaiian shirts. He has left a mark, but one grieves for his grandchildren who are young or unborn, who will not know or remember him. But his daughters will be parenting as he did, and his care will continue in that way.
I do miss my husband, and will be glad when he returns this afternoon. Seeing the widow yesterday reminds me that we will not always be together. Time is precious.
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