Sitting This One Out

Otherwise known as... A Good Night for PJs...

As I start this post, my salsa lesson starts in ten minutes. 

I'm in my pajamas.

Salsa, in my world, is not happening tonight.

Yesterday was my first real day back to work in mostly full school counselor capacity.  I went into the office for two days last week but a great deal of the work I did related to unpacking my boxes after our department's move from portables into our newly-renovated administration building.  Yesterday I got back to work.  I cleaned up my email inbox, returned phone calls, and saw a couple of students.  I facilitated a parent-teacher conference and started working on completing transfer grade forms for students who have recently enrolled at My Small Town High School.  The semester is ending.  Teachers need those grades.

I finished the transfer grade forms today, continued to speak to parents, students, and teachers.  I completed expulsion paperwork-- always a favorite among counselors (not)-- and participated in a department meeting after school.  Halfway through the day, our assistant came into my office while I was focusing on something at my computer.

Jen, I've brought you something to brighten your day. (This is usually her euphemism for giving me something absolutely horrid.)

I don't want it; take it back!

Really?

I turned my head.  Elaine had brought me flowers from My County Counseling Association, which have been a member of since 2005, and presided over from 2007-2008.  The flowers were lovely.  Yesterday I had four sympathy cards waiting for me in box in the mailroom, as well as an African Violet from one of my sweet students. 

I simultaneously appreciate the gestures and hate the reminders.  I miss my dad, and I really can't stand that I can't just pick up the phone or send him a quick text. 

This grief stuff is pretty crummy.  That said, I know it's an important process. 

Last night we were talking about Dad and I started crying.  My mom came over and hugged me.  Jen, please don't cry.

I'm tired of not crying!  I was teary for about two minutes and then dried up and went on with my evening.

At the risk of sounding like a crybaby, I'm tired of being strong, and keeping everything together.  I'm doing the best I can to help my mom, but sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating under the pressure.  GDA has been really wonderful and giving me the tender loving care that I'm afraid I require at the moment.

GDA came over on Monday night for dinner.  I made chicken soup because both him and my mom have been battling minor colds.  After we ate, Mom and I introduced GDA to Farkle, a game my family has played for the past three years.  Mom and I hadn't played together in at least six months.  It was fun to laugh, and take chances with the dice, and yes, even Farkle.

The evening was bittersweet; Dad's absence was felt, but I kept hearing what he always used to say when he was taking a risk.  I'm gonna take a big chance at the high school dance.... I even made the sign of the devil's horns at my mom so that she wouldn't win... Dad and I used to do this together and Mom would laugh so hard I thought she was going to have a heart attack.  She would then beg us to stop so that she could finish her turn.  Good times.

At the conclusion of the evening I accompanied GDA outside and walked with him as he took the trash can to the curb.  (I told you that I would get the Man to take out the trash!) 

I'm having some time to myself at GDA's house tonight.  He is out practicing with his salsa training team partner.  It is kind of nice for me to have this time to write, and yeah... cry a bit too. 

Everybody needs to grieve.  I know that Dad is in Heaven, but in my own selfish way I miss him and I wish he was still here. 

I know that's normal.

So tonight, I'm sitting this dance out.  It's a bit rainy and cold and a really good night to do some writing in my pink and black polka-dotted pjs. 

Thanks for being there, readers, in whatever capacity you have been.