Thank goodness for Carlene and Tammy. They helped keep me sane yesterday.
Carlene, as you know, is my daughter, and Tammy is my friend who I met three years ago when she agreed to be the person who cleaned my house after I was diagnosed with severe osteoarthritis.
I wish all of you a Tammy in your life. She is crazy attentive to bathtubs and can scrub a white linoleum kitchen to sparkling like no one’s business. Just 5’2”, she somehow cleans the fluorescent ceiling light in the kitchen – 10 feet in the air – balanced between the kitchen sink and a stepladder. I can’t watch.
Tammy also introduced me to Mary Kay products. I love TimeWise everything. Makes my skin feel like I’m 16 again. Well, 30 anyway. The wrinkles just keep coming, but as long as my face doesn’t feel like leather, I’m good to go. Bring on old age.
Tammy came over yesterday and helped Carlene and I pack up the dining room and living room – the two rooms that contain my most precious possessions. They aren’t pricey by any means, but I’m a collector of memories and everything I own has meaning.
I have my great-grandmothers stereoviewer and the 3-D cards she’d brought with her from Norway; a carnival glass relish dish my grandmother Katinka won at a raffle at her local movie house in the 1930s; a collection of postcards from my hometown in Minnesota; German porcelain pitchers and cups painted with Victorian roses; and an unusual collection of books*. Carlene and Tammy wrapped everything and boxed them while I went through photo albums and tried not to cry. You don’t live somewhere for nearly 20 years or be with someone 14 without a few photos.
Leaving Clarion and leaving my relationship is hard enough without the emotional upheaval that hormones bring. I feel like I swallowed Lake Erie after I went to Presque Isle last week. That was the day I started this 10-day progesterone hell, the third (fourth?) time my doctor has prescribed it to get things moving. Only having a few periods in nearly four years is a lot like allowing dust bunnies to accumulate under your bed. You can’t see them, but eventually you have to clean them out. I tell you this only to advise you to be vigilant about your body and how it functions. Make sure, as you lose weight, to pay attention to your girlie parts. If you aren’t menstruating the way you used to, tell your doctor. If something feels “off,” tell your doctor. Losing weight – especially a lot of weight when you are over 40 – creates havoc in your body. The poor thing gets confused.
Purging my body is like purging my house. It’s painful and it’s cathartic, poignant yet rote. I want to stay with what’s safe and familiar but at the same time I need to move beyond what I know and discover more truths.
I don’t always understand my body, but I’m not afraid of it any longer. I don’t completely understand why my marriage fell apart, either, but I’m not afraid of my future outside of it. It’s just different. A forced period, an unexpected move…in many ways they’re exciting in the same way you anticipate walking into a Halloween haunted house. You know the monsters aren’t real, but they’ll scare you just the same.
Have a healthy weekend, steer clear of the trick or treat candy, and move around a little. I’ll blog again from my new home.
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Congratulations to Tabatha, who won the Denise Austin “Hot Body Yoga” DVD this morning! Look for another Carlene DVD review and giveaway in the next few weeks. I think she’s got her eye on a Pilates workout.
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* I’d written about my book collection a few years ago on ZenBagLady. Just to warn you, it is rated PG-13. Click here to view.
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