6/6/24

And so this week’s moment of happiness despite the news.

When I left, and then divorced, my first husband 27 years ago, I suddenly found myself, through my own decision, on my own. I didn’t realize what that meant until I was on my own – and unaware of how to do certain things that my then-husband had always done.

A moment that stands out to me still, even this many years later, is when I stood at a gas station, the hood to my beloved strawberry Dodge Neon popped. The dashboard told me I needed oil. I had absolutely no idea how to check oil, add oil, or even buy oil.

Armed with the car’s manual (and I like to think the full and loving support of my car himself), I found the dipstick. I found the name of that particular part hysterical, as that was exactly how I felt about myself at that point. I grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser, wiped the dipstick clean, managed to shimmy it into the corresponding tube, and pulled it out.

Could they make those things any harder to read? It reminded me of old time oral thermometers, when you had to squint and turn the thermometer back and forth, trying to see where that little silver line landed. I finally determined that, yes, I needed oil.

The manual told me what kind to buy. I went into the gas station, found it, bought it, and went back out. And then wondered how the hell I was supposed to pour it in without spilling any on the engine. I read further in the manual and found that I needed a funnel. I didn’t have a funnel.

Back into the gas station. Where I discovered, to my utter amazement, that while I could indeed buy a funnel, I could also just take one of the free paper ones they offered. What a nice gas station!

Back by my car, I carefully poured the oil in. I remember talking to Neon, my very creative name for my car. “You’ll be okay, Neon,” I said. “I’m taking care of you. I’m figuring this out.”

I rechecked the oil. It still wasn’t up to the little mark where it said my car would be happiest. Back in for more oil, pour more in…

And voila! My little car was happy! And I DID IT!

Ohmygod. I felt like I deserved a trophy. A gold medal. I am not ashamed to say that after I put everything to rights in the engine, I shut the hood, and then draped myself over it, giving my car a hug, and believing fully that it hugged me back. My car was one of the few things that I brought with me when I walked out. There was my car, my bedroom set, and my writing desk. I left everything else to him, including the house.

And I did it.

So now, here I am again, once more on my own, hopefully just for now, but in completely different circumstances. In 2024, Michael has been in the hospital or rehab more than he’s been at home. I am on my own.

On the day Michael went into the hospital for this current stay, we had our first really humid, hot weather. I am asthmatic, and our a/c is very important to me. But as I stood before the thermostat on this day, I realized I didn’t have a clue how to operate it.

It’s a programmable thermostat. You can choose temperatures for different times, different days, different regions of your home. It gave me a little boost to remember that Michael installed it, and when it didn’t work, I had to have an HVAC guy come out, only to find out that Michael attached the wires wrong. So he was clueless at one point too.  But since that time, Michael ran it flawlessly. I never touched it.

We hadn’t left for the hospital yet, and I asked Michael if he remembered how to do the thermostat. The look he gave me said simply, “Get me to the hospital.” So I abandoned the thermostat and left.

Michael has been in the hospital now for almost 3 weeks. In that time, the pollen counts have soared. It’s been hot and humid. And, in their great insurance company wisdom, our health insurance decided to no longer cover the maintenance inhaler that has kept my asthma in control for well over twenty years. I had to go on a new one, which is taking its time to become effective.

I’d already tried to find the thermostat manual. Nowhere. I looked at a YouTube video that went on and on about the regions, dates, times, for so long, my eyes glazed. But a couple days ago, I remembered my first time of putting oil in my beloved Neon, long departed now, and so I planted myself in front of the thermostat again. I returned to that video, armed with a notebook to take notes.

And lo and behold, near the end of the video, the narrator said, “But what if you are one of those people that hates programmable thermostats? What if you just want one temperature all the time all throughout your entire house?”

That’s me! I thought. That’s me!

He then told me, and showed me, what to do. Put the thermostat on cool. Use the up or down arrows to get it to the temperature you want. Hit hold. And now the thermostat will override any other programs that are on it, including the factory setting.

I did. And I heard the a/c go on. In 40 minutes, my hot and humid condo was where I needed it to be.

If I could have hugged my house, I would have. Like my Neon, I think it was cheering me on.

I DID IT!

Oh, man. The things you don’t think about when you suddenly find yourself on your own, even when you’ve been through your first marriage, your first divorce, and an oil change with a strawberry Dodge Neon.

And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.