In the balance of task versus relationship, I err on the side of task. I had to train myself to greet colleagues before launching into work stuff. I leave out the context. In my writing, I omit setting. I have to remind myself.

Clarification about last week’s post (not because she asked, but because I want to): Claire asked about the prior week’s missing post because she was worried about me. She thought something might have happened to my mother (and she was right).

Clarification about Mom: Mom was not distraught, or angry, or ashamed to find herself on the floor. This is a blessing of later-stage dementia. At first, when Mom was aware of what she was losing, she was angry and defensive. Now she simply says, “That happens sometimes,” or, “I’ll have to think about that.” As one nurse said, “So peaceful.” I remind myself that Mom and I are not the same people we were the last time we spoke (and she is not the same person I grew up with).

Clarification about me: I’m okay and crying sometimes in the middle of nothing. So, that’s my clue that it’s time to see a therapist. I want to find a new one because Elaine has retired, and the therapist I saw briefly in Cincinnati (to help me address some increasing OCD tendencies) is heavily CBT-focused, and I want something a little softer this time. As recommended by my applied psychologist friend Laurie, I’ve researched the Psychology Today therapist finder page and have a short list. Reaching out to my top two choices is my accountability buddy commitment for this week.

Celebration: Roxie! A few weeks ago, Roxie and I walked by two women in our condo lobby. One said to the other, “I don’t even look at that dog. She wants to bite my face off.” The other said, “Oh, she’s a lot better now.” She is. Much better. From almost biting Ken’s hand, to lunging for the elevator as the doors crack open—so she can hurt whatever might be in there before it can hurt her—Roxie’s changed. I used to have to walk with her leash behind my hips, to use my body weight to keep Roxie from dragging me down the sidewalk. Here’s how we walk now.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful for Friendlies.

(Friendlies are those people in our lives with whom we have small, repeated, kind interactions. For example, the barista, the concierge, the mail carrier, the cashier at the grocery store. Click to know more about Friendlies and the important role they play in filling our Love Buckets.)