Girl stuff

Zoë's friends Steph and Olivia had their way with her hair and makeup for over an hour. I enjoyed hearing the sound of girls yakking and laughing. They weren't quite ready when Zoë's date (escort? Male physics friend? Fellow nerd in a tux?) arrived, so I chatted with Nik for a bit.

He appreciated that our house is inhabited by life-size robots from movies and TV. I appreciate that he's not a 25 year-old tattooed biker aking me to loan him gas money for his Harley.

Will I be up waiting for her when she gets home at 1:30am? You bet your sweet ass I will ;-)

So proud of our daughter tonight

Zoë was awarded the "Bronco" award for the Bella Vista Broncos high school swim team. She was chosen out of 50 girls for her dedication, attitude, determination, spirit and character.

When she was selected to receive the "Sportsmanship Award" for the entire league last year--five recreational teams-- Peg and I felt the same way. We were proud of her for being the solid and strong girl she is, regardless of how many races she had won.

I wept when she got the award. Partly because I'm so proud of her and partly because it's another event of so many that Peg won't be there for.

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Tomorrow night is her first date (although she claims it's not a date because there will be a group and they're taking a limousine). A boy from her physics class invited her to the Bella Vista Senior Ball about two weeks before Peg passed.

She was painting her fingernails this afternoon for tonight's swim banquet.  Said she wasn't going to paint her toenails until the last of the paint Peg had put on a month ago had completely chipped away. Sad, and sweet.

Peg's memorial is shaping up

Spent a delightful time with Peggy's women's group tonight planning for her public memorial service. Love those women...every wonderful one of them.

More details to come, but here are the basics:

Sunday, June 3rd, 10am-1pm
Location: the home of Marilea Wolfe, 5901 Hoffman Lane, Fair Oaks 95628
Bring a sun hat.
Cards and notes of remembrance are welcome, but no flowers or donations, please.
Carpool if possible, as parking is limited.

The public celebration of Peg's life is open to anyone whose life was touched by her. Looking forward to the flood of love to come pouring into Marilea's back yard.

Peg's ashes

Between Saturday and yesterday, when I went to get Peg's ashes, things really shifted for me.

My sister Paula suggested that Marianne or Mike could keep them in Denver so we wouldn't have to have them here at the house. Marianne said she'd be glad to hold them for us. And yesterday my friend Joyce suggested I ask the crematorium if they could ship the ashes directly. So they did.

Zoë was relieved. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought it wouldn't have been a good idea to fixate on what portion of the ashes got scattered where (the garden, the Grand Tetons, the camper, the Rockies...I had mentally made quite a list).

That little grey plastic box is not who Peg was. And so what I thought would be a very heavy experience turned out to be, as Peg and I phrased it, "nuts and bolts stuff."

Thank you Paula, Marianne and Joyce. And thank you, Peggy.

A busy Mother's Day

There is (oddly) no heaviness around our house today, the first Mother's Day without Peggy...for me or for Zoë. We miss her, but no more so than yesterday or the day before. Mother's Day dinner was Mikuni take-out sushi on the lower patio, trees swaying softly in the early evening delta breeze...  followed by a belching contest, which the neighbors may or may not have appreciated.

Busy day. Michael Irwin brought his manly tools this morning and we finished nuking the deck. We took a break halfway through, pulled up a couple of chairs and talked for a long time about grieving, and loss, and moving on.  He helped me with a lot more than sawing through heavy timber.

The orange areas are the concrete piers, which I will happily pay some guy to jackhammer into little pieces for me. Like cleaning leaves from gutters, there are some things just not worth doing yourself.
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Peg would have loved to hear what I heard from the living room a few minutes ago. Zoë singing something silly, then talking to herself while studying for tomorrow's A.P. Physics exam.
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Tomorrow I pick up Peggy's ashes and bring them home.  Even though I know it's not who she was,  I turned into an emotional wreck yesterday when my friend Joyce called to check in.  I hadn't realized how deeply it had affected me until I mentioned it to her.  So glad she's going with me--our friend Norma offered on Friday and I had declined. "No, I'll be all right," I said.

I won't be "all right." But I'll be okay.  This is just one of many dips to come on the grieving rollercoaster.