Wait. I don't really ever have any quiet weekends...
The kids are with X this weekend and J is on a business trip in CA. So I'm by myself. Of course I could find people to do things with... but I have to say, I've been looking forward to this for a while. Solitude. Time in my apartment to get it a bit in shape. To clean. To veg. To watch "How to Look Good Naked." (It was my first time watching it... not really quite sure yet how I feel about it....)
So I went to Staples and bought some stuff to start filing things for 2008. And I started cleaning. And moving. And organizing. And I don't know about you, but for me that means lots of time spent sitting on the floor, surrounded by dust bunnies, going through memories. And I'm not such a big believer in throwing stuff out... so believe you- me - there's lots of stuff to go through.
Found the letter from the guy who was a Director at one of the places I worked. I was about 28, he was ... oh... maybe 50? Or near enough. And we sucked face. And I kept saying "But you're a Director!" He crashed at my place (on the couch - I was in my room, in my bed, thank you very much!) and had to go to the Gap the next morning to pick up a new shirt. Ahhh... memories.
Came across my old cowboy boots. They're ruined by the rain. I've brought them to three different shoe repair places. Some of you might remember when I wrote about them getting ruined in the rain... that was about 2-3 years ago. Yep. Still have 'em. Can't. Throw. Them. Out!
I found piles of old cards. Birthday cards. Cards from when I graduated from Social Work School. Found the last birthday card I got from X. It's SO him: "Happy Birthday. Looking forward to your graduation and 2 incomes and a house and a more certain future. I hope those are among your wishes. Lots of Love..." ""Lots of Love" Really? But wait. Isn't what he wrote all about HIM?
Found another card from him, maybe from the year before. "Happy Birthday to a warm, caring, loving wife who I'll miss enormously when she's gone. With lots of love (underlined)" I remember. I used to try to get some sort of expression of caring from him... or be noticed... and I'd say (jokingly) "Oh, you'll miss me when I'm gone!"
So I'm just kind of sitting here (well, actually I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the aforementioned dust bunnies...) and just trying to assess how I feel. It seems that there was love in our relationship... but try as I might.. I can't really dig it up. I can't remember it.
And I'm going through credit card bills... I have them from 1998, dontcha know. (Ok, I started shredding those!!) And of course, before I shred them I have to look at them. And of course, each one has a memory. The time we went to Elephant Shop in Parnell, Auckland. When we went to Buy Buy Baby to get the stroller for Max, when we went to Wood World on the way up to Waipu Cove to stay at his Dad's caravan.. and how I joked how everything in NZ is "World". "Wood World, Auto World..." And teased him about the names & lack of imagination: "North Island, South Island, All Blacks, Tall Blacks (basketball!), All Whites...) And how, when his Dad was in the car with us and he threw a paper cup out the window and I made X stop the car & told his Dad to go out - "how could he litter such a beautiful country!?" And how X and I joked how it was ok that I did, that 'cause they kind of expected me to be like that: Jewish New Yorker, and all.... And I should feel happy, right? Remembering this stuff? And knowing that we did joke about stuff. And laugh. And have good times.
But all I remember is him making a hand motion to me that I'm not wearing lipstick. Or to stand with my feet together (low class to stand with your feet apart, you know...), and worrying that I looked too fat....
Guess I'll go back to my shredding.