Friday, March 06, 2009


I went to the gym this morning. I fed Ella at just after seven and noticed Zar was still in bed, my ever so slightly used gym clothes were on the floor, and the gym is six minutes away. So I got dressed, pulled my hair back (I am so over putting on makeup or even washing my face before going to the gym) and zipped out the door while Zar protested that he had to leave for work pretty much immediately, even though he was still looking like a stubbly half asleep lump.
I did 25 minutes on the elliptical watching the news (belly dancing fest this weekend, another snow storm, big explosion in Bozeman) next to my former personal trainer, a beautiful tiny slip of a thing who used to caliper my arm fat for me. I am wearing ever so slightly used floppy gym pants and an XXL T-shirt proclaiming my love for Fish Lake. And bleach stains. Nice. I kind of want her to say hi, that she hasn't seen me around for some time, and whats with the ultra short not really worth it workout, so I can explain that I just had an 8 pound baby four (okay, five) months ago and lost my other daughter less than two weeks ago. So LAY OFF.
But she doesn't say hi, or even turn her pretty profile, but I am pleased when she goes back to her desk before my 25 minutes are up and I have to skedaddle out the door without so much as stretching, let alone lifting anything other than my ipod and car keys.
I get home at 8:06, and Zar is standing at the top of stairs in the garage door, pretending he always leaves the house this early and I have delayed him.
Please.
And it is so odd, I think, as I hang around his neck in the garage and he says our morning prayer (please keep us safe on the roads, free from harm, accident, or speeding tickets, and please help us to not be so sad and remember the good times) that a grieving mother such as myself would have the audacity to go to the gym.
"I didn't expect you back to work so soon" say half my co-workers last monday, 9 days after Charlotte went home.
I talk with Katie at Chilis about the funeral, what a tiny casket can cost, about the cheesy daisy engraving that was on the lid but covered by the tulips we picked out, and I can tell the people at the next table are listening, maybe a little shocked, and would be more shocked to know this funeral took place 10 days ago.
But life goes on. Work must be done, money earned, chips and salsa consumed, and 25 minutes of alone time at the gym is therapeutic if not all that effective. I miss Charlotte. Life is more quiet, less busy, and I am surrounded by wilting flowers and cards, but it does, indeed, go on.

5 comments:

Amanda said...

If anyone has an excuse to not go the gym for a while (and not feel guilty about it), its you. But I know you are different than me. You love to work out. I hate it. With a fiery passion of a thousand suns. I am looking forward to our Wednesdays with our babies. To eat and shop and play and remember Boofus. I'm glad it will start this week. Love you, love you, love you.

Alison said...

I can imagine myself with a sticker on that says:

"Handle with care. Fragile. I lost my child not very long ago."

...maybe adding to it "Low on energy" and also "not concerned about trivialities"

Love and hugs. I cry with you every time I read your blog.

Take care
Alison

Shannon said...

Good for you! I'm impressed- who wants to go to the gym on a goody day?! You're awesome.

Lincoln said...

Bean...it's a privilege knowing you. The "daisy on the casket" comment made me laugh quite a bit.

The Snell Family said...

If ever life seems to quiet and less busy for you to handle, we will let you borrow Arna for an hour. That's all it will take to be worn out and ready for a nap. ;)

I really to take solace in your attitude and strength. I know that when our time comes it will be a joy and blessing for Arna to be with Boofus, and I can cry too, it's okay.
Loves and Hugs,
Julianna