In my experience front loading washing machines are pieces of shit. The one I inherited from the previous homeowners was leaking water from the door the other day (obviously). When are these things not being problems?  

Maybe it was my recent return to single-land or maybe it was my stubborn streak, but I decided I would NOT hire someone (most likely a man) to fix that machine. I would do it MYSELF, dammit.

So, I used the internet to find out what was wrong, order the new part and replace the old one. It took several trips to Home Depot for the right clamps to get one component of the new part installed and tons of cursing, smashing fingers, a few tears of utter frustration and maybe $150. I probably wouldn’t have paid much more if I’d hired someone and I’d have had it done faster and with no struggle on my part, but I did it myself and no amount of money can buy me that kind of power.

Losing Dave has threatened my sense of power in so many ways. It felt powerless to watch him die. It felt powerless to start a life without him. It felt powerless to call out for him when I most needed him, only to realize, a thousand times a day, that he was never coming back.

To feel power again is so important. To feel in control of something when so much is completely out of my control is a big deal. It’s worth it and I don’t feel it that often. I miss it.

But when I closed that washer door, turned on a cycle and sat back to watch my handiwork do its thing, I felt it. I felt the power of fixing something broken and making it right again. It’s a washing machine, but I’ll take what I can get.

I think this power thing is at the root of a lot of my struggles right now. Instead of righteous anger or a feeling of powerful strength within, I feel helpless and frustrated. And what do I do when I feel that way? I cry.

While I get that crying is not a sign of weakness, it does sometimes get old. Being flooded with emotions that force buckets of tears from my eyes makes me feel powerless and beyond rational thought. I’m all raw emotion and can’t think straight.

Taking back some power might be nice. I don’t quite know the path to this yet, but I imagine it’s small triumphs like this one that will slowly slowly get me there.