I am woman….
Because I am woman, I can generally multitask without breaking a sweat, that is, unless I want to exercise too while going about my daily tasks. Then the sweat is on because like most women, I am good at anything I choose to do or at least, I go at it with gusto.
But lately, I’m feeling just a wee bit overwhelmed. Confusion seems to reign. I start one project and get sidetracked onto another. It’s really not an easy situation. Finally, though, I think I have the answer.
The other night while playing Phase 10 cards with Claude and our friend, James, all of it caught up with me. I think that I finally allowed grief to enter my otherwise hectic life. Grief for the stroke Claude had five years ago, but who’s counting. Grief for the deaths of my Mysti dog and for my brother. Grief for our way of life being upset and some grief just because.
Then like Archie Bunker, I love him, told Edith, his wife, that she had five minutes to get over menopause, I took five minutes to go through the third and fourth of the seven stages of grief. The seven stages of grief are in case you didn’t know: shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger and bargaining, depression-reflection-and loneliness, finally starting to turn away from grief, working through the grief, and acceptance and hope.
We were having a wonderful time playing cards until I let in the anger. Reflection took over and if you’ve ever played Phase 10, then you know there are some skip cards. Well, I generally take being skipped in stride, especially since I’m usually winning, but on this night, winning or not, it decided my five minutes of the seven stages of grief. It wasn’t the card game. It’s generally fun. Anger caught up.
I haven’t really cried since Claude had the stroke. I couldn’t, not for me anyway. Claude skipped me again for the hundredth time causing me to wonder how many da……skip cards there were in that deck….really I know…..all of a sudden the missing of my life when Claude was well, my brother and puppy when they were happily alive. Thoughts of all of this came crashing down. Anger reared it’s ugly head. A remark was made and I heard it almost psychically coming from my lips. Tears came.
I tried to get out of my seat nicely, without letting the guys notice. Then I tried to make it to the bathroom for a tissue before I had an all-out crying spree. It seemed they hadn’t noticed until I returned to the table and there it was, another skip.
Looking down at it, I heard Claude say meekly, “I skip James.” I think they were conspiring while I was in the bathroom. Two men against a woman.
That’s when the fight began. “I don’t want no pity skip. You hear me?” Tears are pouring. Both men are at a loss. Heck, I’m at a loss. I’m supposed to help everyone and here I am crying up a storm.
Worse, I had to explain that it wasn’t the cards. It was those da……seven stages of grief.
Just the same. Bet I won’t be seeing a skip card any time soon. Think I’ll ask if they want to play Phase 10 this weekend.