Burned out and detached

Life is starting to get back to normal. The death certificates arrived in Tuessday's mail, and now I can take care of the final work related to my mom's death. All the thank-yous have been sent. Over the weekend, Janet went to her quilting retreat and had a very good time.

As for me, though, burnout remains a danger. I may have come close to it over the weekend.

It all started going downhill (symbolically?) after I dropped Janet off at her quilting thing Thursday morning. Went back to work, and I covered volleyball that night, then football on Friday night.

I should mention that we were way shorthanded at the office. The editor was taking some vacation days, and I tried to get some copy out to the typists so we wouldn't be playing from behind on Monday. And I'm serious when I edit copy--if a lede is wrong or the local angle is buried near the end, I do the repairs to make the story more pertinent. Anyway ... I was the only one in my half of the building for most of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

As for my own responsibilities: Saturday shaped up as a very long day, and it didn't disappoint. I went in to work at 8:15 a.m. and didn't finish working until 5:30 p.m. I was in the office, writing about Friday's football games, most of the morning. From there, I went to West Iron's gym, where they were holding a program honoring Chuck Greenlund--they just named the gym in his honor ... and then I drove across the county to Forest Park, where a volleyball tournament was taking plcae.

By the time I got home, I was feeling pretty beat. Most of the evening was spent watching TV with the kitties. We (Charlie and I) watched Bergman's "The Virgin Spring," and followed that the only way you can follow a Bergman movie--with a hockey game recorded last May. But by the second period, I was starting to feel myself drifting off. I made it to the end of the period, and then I went upstairs to bed. Still don't know if Vancouver was able to hold on to its 2-1 lead over the Blackhawks.

Janet called during the movie, and we talked for a while--mainly that I had to pick her and her stuff up Sunday morning. She was having a good time with the quilters. Then hockey, and then I went upstairs. Charlie shared the bed with me--otherwise, I was sleeping by myself. If I had a good, close friend nearby ... but I don't.

The volleyball tournament meant more late stories I had to write, and the football stories weren't done, either. So I went in to work Sunday morning at 7:20. I was figuring a one-hour break when I drove out to pick up my wife and her quilting stuff. Then, back to the office. I stopped right around noon and had the rest of the day off, more or less.

We watched the Packers game together, and then I mowed the lawn. It needed it; it had been about two weeks since it was last mowed, what with the Labor Day trip, my mom's funeral and a lot of wet weather. (We had 3 inches of rain last Wednesday.) Plus, all those evenings away from home, covering this and that. Anyway, the lawn was getting quite long, and I finally had time to take care of it. Then I staggered upstairs, lay down on the bed and crashed. It helped clear my head (that and a couple of Tylenols), and I was able to finish my articles that night.

I had more volleyball Monday night, but Janet and I finally got a chance to snuggle later, and Tuesday I got to stay home. On Wednesday, I was planning to visit Nancy--she was planning to make quesadillas for us, to be followed by a fun movie or two, and best of all I'd get to turn off the world for a while.

That was the plan. But Wednesday morning, she sent me an e-mail--she was having septic problems at her place, and she couldn't get someone out right away. On top of that, heavy rain is expected to move in overnight. By the time it ends late Thursday, we are expecting 2 to 4 inches of rain. Flood watches and everything--we have had a wet summer and early fall. The last time I got to visit Nancy (in late July), it was another stormy night.

Disappointed, but on the other hand I get to relax some more at home, and R&R time is badly needed. I have been feeling like Mr. Hamster, scampering around, trying to reach the end of his wheel. Mr. Hamster is tired and bored. He wants to do something different. All work and no play for too long makes for a dull hamster. I think Jack Nicholson said that. At least I'm aware of the problem, and I want to get off my wheel and enjoy life a little more. That is the plan, anyway.

I want to visit Sheryl and Trisha, too. But that's going to have to wait a while. To visit them, I need two consecutive nights off, and that's about to happen for another month and a half. When my chance comes, I've got to grab it with both hands.

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I have been wondering ... should I go in and talk to the pastor? She's a nice lady, and I've got something that's bothering me: Why do I feel so emotionally detached from my mom's death? I haven't had any emotional moments, not even in private. It hasn't "hit" me yet, and I'm wondering whether it will.

My theory is that I have been grieving over Mom for these last five years, as I saw her condition gradually get worse. When I felt sad, I wrote about it here. So when it came time for her to pass, I was quite reconciled to the idea and ready to let her go on to her next life, whatever it is.

It's only been a little over two weeks. We cleaned out her house a couple of years ago and sold it last fall. That's done. We have her things from the house and from the nursing home--we have gone through the nursing home stuff already. Many boxes of stuff from home remain. It's going to take time to go through that and reclaim part of the house, which has gotten cluttered with our stuff, her stuff and my father-in-law's stuff, from when that house was cleared out.

I guess it's just part of the process, one generation fading away and another (mine) becoming the elders. The all-knowing elders. But this isn't a question I'm having a easy time answering, so I may be calling in other minds for their input.