Burned

Oh yeah! That's right! I burned over 300 calories today, probably over 400! The scale even reported (faultily or not) that I had lost 2.5 pounds! So the past week and a half of vigorous...OK, not so much vigorous, but toning exercises seems to be paying off. I walked 2.5 miles on the treadmill and burned 361 calories just while I was on there. I am truly thrilled about this. When I first started the gym, about a month and a week ago, I could barely get to walking three miles on the treadmill, and I certainly was nowhere near the 5% incline I was at today. I love feeling the results, being able to hold my stomach in and feel the muscles all over my body get tighter. I just keep imagining my wedding day and my honeymoon, feeling healthy and happy. From there, I imagine my life and my family, and I imagine living a long healthy life because of the choices I am making now.

Today, I spent an hour and a half on the phone with a very nice, knowledgeable man from AT&T. All I wanted to do was switch my cable and Internet company from the one I have to theirs. He was very nice, and every time there was a pause or the computer was moving slow, he asked questions about my family and such. I learned quite a lot about this man. He was born in California and moved to St. Louis when he was 11, going on 12. When they went to St. Louis, they were going so he could meet family of his, and they just ended up staying. He wishes he could travel...Ooh, he wishes he could travel. He would like to go back to California. He is about 25 or 26 years old. His name is Jamal. His mother can install her own cable and Internet and she is nearly 60. This tidbit I was informed of to reassure me that I could not mess this installation up. I shared a tidbit with him that I was sure I could mess this installation up. He too is not too impressed with St. Louis, and again, he would love to travel. :o) It wasn't necessarily a bad time on the phone, just a very long time. However, if anyone ever has to call AT&T, I highly recommend you ask for Jamal in St. Louis, as long as you have some time.

I am starting grief counseling with my sister on Thursday this week. My mom died about a year and a half ago from complications with metastatic breast cancer that spread to her liver. This whole week, though it has only technically been three days, has been a very down week. I am getting very anxious about this grief counseling because as each day passes, I am realizing just how much is still not dealt with. I don't even know if I would say it isn't dealt with. I just realize that I go a few months being very happy and content, and then there is a crash where I realize my mom is not here anymore. I never feel more alone than when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize she has been gone so long. Somehow, the dreams where she is alive and healthy seem to make it hurt worse. I was reading a book last night that explained exactly how it feels. This is an excerpt from Kate Jacob's book Friday Night Knitting Club:

"She moaned to herself as her mind raced through the last fifteen years of her life, always leaving her with the same conclusion: Stan was dead. Really gone. And she still here, alone.

Groggy, Anita remained motionless in her bed, staring at the ceiling. How many times had she had that dream? The grief seemed to cycle in endless phases; sometimes she dreamed about Stan night after night, and other times months would pass between seeing him in her sleeping hours. And then the dream would return. Always it was the same-Stan was alive!-and always the waking reality was the same: Anita was a widow.

She would see him in the living room, on the street, at a party. The sequence never altered-the shock at the sight of him, the embarrassment over her mistake-what sort of wife would believe her husband was dead when he was right there in front of her?-then the intense relief that left her wanting to fall to her knees and thank God that he was still alive.

It seemed so real. Each and every time. She felt stupid when she woke up, but everything seemed so logical in the dream. So matter-of-fact. Anita would tell Stan how she had worried, and he would laugh and call her his sweetheart and she would feel so goddamned overwhelmed that his supposed death had all been a misunderstanding. Of course it was! Everything was okay! And that meeting, the moment of talking with Stan, would be so raw and exciting and truly perfect that she would be enveloped by a happiness beyond any she had ever imagined.

The feeling was pure joy.

Just at that instant she would awaken, right when she had sorted through all the possibilities and come to the conclusion that yes, Stan was alive, and all was right again."

-Jacobs, Kate. The Friday Night Knitting Club. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2007.

Even though this character had lost her husband, I feel exactly the same way as I awake from a dream about my mom being alive and healthy. If I could just see her in Heaven, it would not hurt so badly, but I think that would ruin the concept of faith, not that I have an issue with that concept. I understand why I can't just see her in Heaven, but I will be the first to say that it sucks.