Grief makes the tiny things big for a time. In my case, since my return from visiting Mom, I am finding some things that were, aren't. And, some things are that weren't. Let me explain.
Whenever I would leave on a trip, I always made sure that Carleton had a full refrigerator of food. His soda selections, milk, orange juice, meals, etc. I know that I would be eating with my Mom, clients or friends. I wanted him to have what he wanted.
Yet, this last trip, I unconciously realized that everything in would perish and present a terrible odor upon my return if it were left to develop. I simply didn't plan for the result. Yes, I have been busy, and three days later, there has been nothing placed magically into the fridge. Do you know why? Because I would need to do it. Well, except a friend realized the dillema this morning and delivered a carton of milk to make sure I could have cereal. Of course, I have frozen things in the freezer, just nothing fresh. Ugh.
As I begin my process back to singleness, I become annoyed at little things. Things Carleton promised to do, but didn't get around to it. The closet project. Helping me with organizing some files. Assist me in reviewing every one of those strange boxes that go with you in every move, but you aren't sure any more what is in it.
I become annoyed at the things Carleton did do, but won't be doing them any longer. Today, I realized I have to do things I hate but that Carleton didn't mind. I hate folding clothes. Hate it! We shared kitchen duties, now I have to do all of the duties. He helped me with chores around the house, usually vacuuming. Even putting sentences into past tense as it relates to Carleton is annoying.
Yesterday morning, as I reached for the vacuum, the special filters he said he would order 6 months ago were, surprise!, not in the apartment. Yep, I was peeved. I look in the vacuum and there is the six months of dirt he vacuumed up. Carleton had simply ignored using the vacuum with the filter. I soon learned why. There was no special website where he could order the filter. He would have had to talk to someone on the phone! His phonephobia continues to pester me!
Yet, I will admit that Carleton had a certain ying to my yang. Normally his yang annoyed me. Though, now, it bothers me less. See, Carleton was fiercely protective of where he lived, of who he loved, what information people would or should know about him or me, and whether someone or anyone should have any knowledge, access, or ability to enter our home.
On the other hand, I have always been a person who advertised in newspapers for the promotion of my career as a financial advisor while serving the LGBT Community as an advocate and volunteer. I have been as welcoming to others as Carleton has been at being fiercely private. I have always volunteered for decades and he was happy to be my personal hermit.
I generally welcome any person to visit me at my home. I didn't attempt to hide things of personal worth or value. The thought would never crossed my mind that it might be stolen. But, it would drive Carleton into a frenzy whether someone was scheduled to visit or stopped by unnanounced or undeclared by me.
I saw my home as a refuge for those who might need refuge, a place of peace where I lived and obviously people could knock to find me. He saw it as his safe place to be protected from those who would press or take advantage.
To my surprise, mild surprise, several friends have repeated similar phrases that Carleton used to express in exasperation regarding my laissez faire, generally trusting policy. Dare I say that a few have taken it upon themselves personally to not so subtely monitor and evaluate my home life, bringing their own penchants for defending against my rather hopeful attitude of seeing the good in others and believing easily trusting demeanors. Dare I admit having a pollyanna complex?
My mom has regularly said that I'm really, really smart, but sometimes have no common sense. Rene, today, would agree. An issue arose where I was patiently waiting for someone to follow through on their word. He was ready to involve the police. He nicely said I was the smartest person he knows but he is frustrated at my complete lack of street smarts. He said it with the same rolled eyes look I sometimes give friends when they just frustrate me with their lack of basic knowledge in budgeting or strategic engagement or basic political consequences of decision making. As far as Rene is concerned, my year long adventure in Sao Paulo, Brazil taught me nothing.
Clearly, Carelton has pointedly assured that my lack of concern in some areas is balanced by those who share his, and my mom's, irritation at the very thing that makes me who I am. And, that does not make me annoyed. .
Now, if I can only figure out what to do with his shot glass collection and determine where to give his remaining FloVorIce he enjoyed. Then, I will face the more daunting of Widower/Widow questions... How to cook for one. Dinner plans anyone?
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