There's Me, then there's (me) - a Squirrel-Fur Story 8/31/13

The first week of school is over.  The routine has set in.  The big kids have already learned some stuff (ha ha, gotcha!), and more and more of the babies are opening their mouths and singing with me every day.  Here we go.  That's Me.  I will forever, though, equate this first week with the things I've had to do concerning probate, real estate, life insurance, and being the single parent.  That is (me).  There are barriers there.  I'm not going to share that information with everybody out there.  Yes, it may seem that I tell you a detail or two, but none of it chips the surface of the reality I'm living.

There is squirrel fur on the bedroom floor right now.  Just a couple clumps, but that's enough to make me think that some squirrel left it behind on someone's paw as it ran and HID in my bedroom somewhere. I found a dead squirrel out back on Thursday morning - very possible that one animal or another brought the dead one's brother in the house!  This is the kind of thing I do share.  Amusing anecdotes.  Enjoyable escapades. Hilarious happenings.  (Alliteration kick courtesy of my favorite fifth grader, Riley!)  I shall probably search for above-mentioned squirrel before I finish writing this today.  That's my 'story of the day'.  Unfortunately, there's a LOT more that goes untold. 

Almost every day this week, there was an untold story, deed, issue.  I can share a few of them here, but some I just only tell certain people. Me is an open house, but (me) is a locked closet.  I know, everyone is that way, it just seems magnified to me now that I'm dealing with the aftermath of death.

College girl's laptop broke right before she headed off to school.  Less than a year old, I knew it was still under warranty.  I had to deal with having tech support help me on the phone, then reporting to them that it still didn't work, getting an RMA number, shipping it off, etc.  Not that difficult, but computers were his department.  I think every married couple, especially parents, have certain "departments".  Laundry, paying bills, house décor, children and animal health - those were some of my departments.  Computers, TVs, pool chemicals, cars, yard, insurance - those were some of his.  Having to step in and run the other department is sometimes difficult because it is new territory, but always difficult because I'm only doing this because he's gone.  I'm proud to say the freshly-repaired-under-warranty laptop arrived yesterday.  Success in one new territory.

If only every little task that dealt with the aftermath felt like success.  Who is really worried whether or not I remember to take the right paperwork to school with me so that I can stop by the lawyer's office after a long day and let them make copies of the appropriate papers for probate court?  Who really cares that I answer the personal e-mails that still arrive in his inbox, giving them the sad news and telling them I will tie up all the loose ends and keep in touch?  With each thing I do, however, I share my accomplishment with one of the people that get to know (me).  My family, my best friends, sometimes a special friend at work.....but not everyone.  Even the examples in this writing are not the ones that I consider the "big issues", - the ones that send me to my car or my chair at home sobbing.

So it's not for everyone to know every piece of business.  I'd rather talk to you about how good the kids are this week (general consensus - they're tired!), or what was for dinner last night, or how cold it is in my classroom, and why can't I remember to bring my sweater to school?.....all of that is Me.  What you might not realize is that (me) is sitting there eating lunch, and because of the cold room and the soap from just washing my hands, I was able to slip off the wedding band for the first time in many years.  My finger was a size 6 in 1984.  It's not anymore.  Nevertheless, I worked it off. I didn't tell anyone, just put it on my pinky.  It's not that I'm ready to be without it - I still have the diamonds on.  I'm just scared if I put it back on, it would have to be cut off one of these days.  Or maybe I am trying to give myself reminders that all departments belong to me now, and I can do it!  I'm not ready to look unmarried, I'm just trying to do a good job at being the only one that takes care of everything. Talk about a sad story, a forlorn fable, a depressing drama.  That's why I only let most people see Me, not (me). I can do this with help - special friends that give me pens, dinner, chocolate cake, anonymous cards - these gestures let me know there are others that understand (me), and even have a (me) themselves.

Me can finish out this part of the story for you:  I called my friend to come over and help hunt the squirrel.  My friend took one look at the fur and said "That looks like your hair, are you sure none of the pets got hold of a hairbrush or something?"  I said no, and kept looking. After about five minutes of looking and talking, the answer dawned on me.  "There is no squirrel!"  I exclaimed.  I knew the answer.  I took a phone pic of silly Roxy-cat sitting on top of the wardrobe.  The vacuum was in the corner in the pic.  I moved the vacuum and took another pic, then put it back.  (Lord knows we can't have a vacuum in our picture, it just wouldn't look proper, would it?)  The last time I vacuumed, it was when my girls and I got our hair cut at the house.  Sure enough, that multi-colored clump of hair that I thought was straight from a squirrel's tail was actually a mix of our reddish-brown, brown and caramel highlights hair scraps, freeing themselves from the evil beater brush of the Shark.  I'm not hiding anything about the squirrel-fur story. That made me laugh today.  I will choose to focus on those types of things. Here's hoping the laughter will at least help (me) keep my balance.  Love, Me.