Cell Memory

I have this year been losing weight. (This is part of the sticky beginning that I have no idea how to write.) But what I have noticed is as I have journeyed backwards in weight, I seem to be passing thrugh the emotions of the last time I was at that weight.

The first few pounds were no big deal - family drama/the move and all that being the root cause of the weight gain (or at least the handiest excuse) - other than the anxiety caused by weight loss and worrying that I'm going to gain it back or how to make the best choices when I really would rather eat french fries than raw zucchini.

The next set of pounds was harder, being the weight I gained after my mother died. This is when I began to notice a correlation and wonder. The last couple of years have been okay for me; I've been sad when approaching her death day but nothing overwhelming. This year, it started early and was hard, as in weepy all the time hard and beginning to look at people who lost their mother's recently thinking, "Well, they got 5 or 10 or 2 more years than I did," and feeling jealous.

But July 26th passed and I am feeling more grounded and the next few pounds didn't really seem to trigger much - just keep working out and sticking to an improved diet (SO many more vegetables than I've consumed in a very long time!).

But now I'm down to where I was in high school (don't get too excited - I was an obese teen) and the weight loss has stalled.

No doubt part of this is due to having worked at this for the last eight months and just feeling tired of all the work. However, I can't help but remember that this next group of weight was gained when I was an insecure teenager for whom food was a best friend and a solution to everything. I cannot remember how many times I would have a horrible-no-good-very-bad day and solve it by stopping at the convenience store for a package of oreos (the one pound sucker, not just a small candy bar size, of course) and a quart of milk or maybe a pint of Ben and Jerry's (chocolate brownie something or other was my favorite) and then going home and putting a sizable dent in either before I felt complete and happy.

I also can't help but think that food was my rebellion and where I could let go; so many "don'ts" that I really didn't do and food was one that no one could really tell or did tell me I couldn't.

I find myself back in those same shoes now that I am back at that same weight. Food is my best friend; it's always there when I need it and now I'm even better at finding those tasty combinations that are oh so delicious and nourishing to the soul. There are so many other things I stress about, do I really need to stress over food?

Which underscores what I've been feeling about this whole journey and life in general: there is just no avoiding the hard stuff; you can try to go around it but really you're just delaying the inevitable. I avoided accepting and dealing with all my emotions when I was a teenager, preferring to stuff or put things away because they were all just too much and now, at 36, I am having to pick up that gauntlet and figure out how to move through it. I just don't know that it's any easier now than it was 20 years ago.

Broken Hearts

Do you remember our little one pound ball of orange fluff?

October 2007

She's quite grown up now.  She's a gorgeous long hair orange tabby who loves people and is quite vocal, which is lovely when that means purring and a bit like riding the crazy train when it means mewing.

Unfortunately, she has also developed the opinion that she is alpha to my daughter and has taken to attacking Eliza for no reason at all.  A few months ago it was in the middle of the night while Eliza was sleeping.  So we made new rules and attempted to create an environment in which both cat and daughter could peacefully coexist.  I really wanted to keep this cat.  Not only do I love her but my middle child, Q, who struggles with life so much has said, "On a bad day, she makes me feel better."  I knew to get rid of her would break Q's heart, something I studiously try to avoid.

Yesterday, however, Jenny attacked Eliza again.  We were sitting on the couch for family scripture study, Jenny was next to Eliza and Eliza was petting her fur.  Jenny went all Tazmanian Devil on Eliza and her little face had 4 new scratches, 3 of which broke skin.

I was going to euthanize the cat but my SIL introduced to the wonderful wide world of Human Society shelters.  I called and they were willing to take the cat.  However, after all the paper work was filled out, it turns out that I had to talk to animal control due to the scratching and biting.  After talking to "Officer George," because her rabies shots are not current (due to her having two abcesses this year) I learned that we are required to either quarantine her ourselves or pay $50/day for 10 days to have the shelter quarantine her.

I left in tears.  I wanted to take care of this today, to rip that band-aid off, so my children could say good-bye and work on letting go rather than a drawn out good-bye process.  DH offered to take her and euthanize her himself but I just can't accept doing that simply because it's easier.  So my cat, Jenny Butterscotch, is currently sheltered at the home we are remodeling and for the next 10 days I will have to sneak around to visit her and tend to her.

None of this has turned out the way I had hoped.  DH and I grew up with animals and have always had animals.  Once we adopted them, they were in our lives until they died.  This is the first time I've ever had to relinquish care but I have to place my daughter first.  And even that hasn't turned out the way I would have hoped.  I've had a ball of anxiety in my stomach since Jenny's attack on Eliza yesterday morning and now I know it will be there until October 11.

Most of all, though, I'm saddened to say good-bye to this pet.  My children really do love her.  I adore her and had such hopes for her and what she would bring to our family.  It is hard to say good-bye to something around which we have wrapped our hearts for the last three years.

Old Things Are New Again

I discovered recently that a number of films I like (notably Notting Hill and Wimbledon) are produced by a company called Working Title Films.  They also produced Four Weddings and a Funeral.  I watched the movie back when it came out and was horribly disappointed.  But the movie was playing on TV and I like dark chocolate and bleu cheese, which I didn't as a child so, why not?

I watched the movie and was still horribly disappointed (well, maybe only disappointed) but there were moments of brilliance that I failed to appreciate as a youth.

My favorite was at the one funeral in the movie.  Matthew, Gareth's partner, mourns the loss of his love and recites the most perfect poem about grief and loss.  He had me at the first sentence as I remember feeling that exact feeling at the loss of my mother.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

So while the movie was a waste of two hours, for the second time, the poem was well worth it.  I can now express verbally what's in my heart when I have my moments of grief and needing words I don't have for an emotion I can't wish away.

Coincidentally, in one of those great circle of life moments, the poem is by W.H. Auden, my senior year roommate's favorite poet.  I should have known she was on to something; she was a brilliant woman who took seriously the proper use of adverbs, knew a great deal about diamonds and could make an amazing gorgonzola cream sauce.