Friday, June 25, 2010


43/365 – EXHAUSTED
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I'm feeling uninspired tonight. For one, it was a terribly long day at work, then came home and tried to put the house back together when the painters finished their work. Now that I have new carpeting installed upstairs, and new paint, all in an extremely light color, I have warned the boys to not even think of breathing near the walls, and to try to hydroplane, instead of walking, on the carpet. I know, I'm going to drive them crazy these next few weeks as I try to get the final packing done, and empty out the house so the realtors can do their thing.

The property management company for the house in San Diego emailed me a ton of forms that need to be signed. Silly, and naive, me. I thought they were sending me a single document with the lease terms spelled out. I thought it would be a simple matter of one signature, and off in the mail with a check. Obviously I have never leased a home before. You would think I was adopting a fourth child.

I got my daughter off to the airport this morning, sobbing all the way to the gate. No, not me. Her. I just gave her a long tight hug, covered her with kisses, and reminded her that once she arrived in San Diego she would remember how excited she was about this move. She later called me from Shakti Rising, saying she had just arrived, and that the house was beautiful. She sounded quite pleased, and relieved.

Also this evening I got a call from Michael's brother, saying his mother had a suitcase of Michael's, which was locked. They wanted to know if I knew the combination. I had no clue what the suitcase this was, or how it materialized. I gave him a few combinations of the typical numbers Michael tended to use for passwords, pins or other combination locks, all with no success. I found myself talking to Michael's picture, asking him what in the world was in the suitcase, and was it really worth all their work to try and open it. I have a feeling it will be simply filled with old clothing, as Michael didn't like to throw anything out, and sometimes stored his winter clothing in old suitcases.

Now I'm sitting here on my bed, thoroughly exhausted, and ready for sleep. I wish I had something profound, or clever, to write about tonight, but the old brain is fried, and I'm about to turn in.

Two weeks left of work. Three weeks left in San Francisco.


  1. it is the uninspired days that seems like the days when you most need to say something. for me it is. but i cannot write. it is all inside me and i cannot put it all together. your goal of writing every day is an awesome one that you have set and you are doing beautifully. simply in telling of your day, the small thoughts of how exhausted you are, say quite a bit. it is simply living with grief while having to live that is the heroic journey. you are continuing to live and not merely exist that makes you who you are. in caring for your children and in searching for a new place for yourself to find peace, you are proof that we can survive deep emotional pain, even if we don't believe we can.

    peace to you and your children.

    p.s most old suitcases can be forced open without damage. after my father died i found such an old suitcase that had heavy things in it that banged around. i pried it open and oddly, found his old spurs and branding iron for the ranch i grew up on. the suitcase still closes just fine and i have the spurs and branding iron out to look at.

  2. Glad to hear that your daughter sounded pleased and relieved after arriving at Shakti Rising.

    How are you feeling about having just two weeks left at work, and three until you leave San Francisco? Do you have any sense of looking forward to being finished at your work place and free for awhile as you get moved, settled in, and then begin a job search. How you are feeling right now - the exhaustion, and of being overworked or stressed - will probably be with you for another couple of weeks, but I'm hoping that these hard days will fade away pretty quickly once you're on the road, moving into new terrain, walking new streets and seeing new things. That's how it has been for me - the wrapping things up at my old place so that I could go elsewhere. Last summer was truly difficult as you don't just stick a for sale sign on a farm you have been living on for 35 years. The work of getting it ready to put for sale was pretty horrific -- would have been for two of us, but almost impossible to do alone -- but when it was done and the place was sold, I can't really describe the freedom that I felt as I drove away the day after signing off all of the papers at the lawyer's office. I thought I'd feel regret and sadness, but it was just relief. Big sighs of relief. I hope you get to heave a few of those when the time comes.

  3. Dan,

    You inspire me.

    I hope this weekend brings you some peace in between all the activity of getting ready to move.


  4. You are a brave man, Dan. I admire your strength to move forward into the unknown. God bless.

  5. I am so fortunate to have all your great support. It gives me the courage to keep moving toward this new beginning.

    Thanks so much.