Remember how I said I was on an eating vacation? I probably need to buckle down and get back to work. I felt a severe eating deficit on Sunday at church and needed to literally lie down and be quiet for 45 minutes while Mom and Dad went to grab a salad and came back for me. Yes, stress is a contributing factor. Apparently I’m REALLY bad at this whole grieving thing. I prefer to pretend nothing’s happening, and my people are obliging me by playing along. But I know that denial can only work for so long. I think I might be reaching the extent of its (admittedly flawed) effectiveness.
I also chose poorly at breakfast at Sunday. Mommy asked me if I wanted an egg and I said, I probably should, but no thanks. Bad choice. And I can’t get away with suboptimal choices right now when it comes to food. So I will do better tomorrow. 🙂
This is Aunty Haigouhy making coffee for me in 2009. We went EVERYWHERE together after Uncle Joe died. Pharmacy, Supermarket, Doctor, Hospital – wherever. Fun Times were had by all. I was always amazed at how many people stopped to greet her warmly and chat while we were out and about. Everyone knew her and Uncle Joe bc Uncle Joe had a shoe repair shop in the neighborhood for many moons and it was a well loved institution.
When I came home from my internship (Intel Summer Camp ‘o8) I went straight to The Shop with a pot of orchids and the burning question – Should I move? This was when Uncle Joe famously told me that yes, I could move, but that I should be aware that no one was going to bring me a cup of water.
In later years, Aunty Haigouhy would say, I don’t know why you want move Oregon.
Me: But Uncle Joe SAID I could!!
Aunty H: I don’t remember that.
She was right there, I promise. But she feigned unawareness of this conversation, just like how she’d always feign memory loss when it came to putting on her seat belt in my car.
I always managed to show up at her house whenever we had errands to run around mealtime. I take that back. Time was somewhat irrelevant. I went straight to the fridge and perfected my pathetically hungry look over the years. It totally worked. I was always well fed and well cared for at Aunt Haigouhy’s house.
There are so many more stories I could tell you, but I’m going to refrain. I need to rest my arms so I can play at Aunty Haigouhy’s funeral.