My Mind Distracted

It was a rainy night in Chicago. . . .I commented to Carolyn that I wasn't sure if anyone would show up to the gym Monday night.  No one was waiting outside the gym door when I got there.

Andre came in a few minutes later, followed by Amy, Sarah, and Anthony, who gave me a big hug.  I hadn't seen him in a long while.  I had just went through some old entries last night and saw that I had mentioned him several times.  Marcus and Gene came in also.  Alan was out because Monday was Rosh Hashanah.

Andre and Anthony wanted to spar, but the rules are, when the coach's not in, no sparring takes place.  But they got into the ring, promising to do some sparring drills.  Anthony did not wear a mouth piece.  I watched carefully so he didn't hit Andre in the ribs.  Andre has a cracked rib due to sparring with Andres the other week. 

Gene got in with Andre.  I kept reminding Gene to keep his right hand up, as well as throw his jab out completely.  Andre's rib didn't keep him from dancing around Gene and throwing quick punches.  Andre came out, and Anthony got in, coaching Gene the whole time as they moved around.  Gene had gotten tired, but Anthony encouraged him to keep punching during the last 30 seconds of the round. 

Sarah and Amy did sparring drills, too, but unlike the guys, they wore no headgear or mouth pieces.  Sarah threw punches while Amy caught them during the first round they were in the ring.  The second time around, Amy threw hooks while Sarah defended against them.

I didn't do much of a workout.  My mind was distracted by the fact my mother's body is still in San Francisco.  I showed up to work this morning, and Virginia, the pastor's wife, was there to tell me her husband was ill and wouldn't be in.  She had to leave briefly to pick up some bread for this morning's food pantry, so I watched her little boy, Isaac.  Isaac and I spent a pleasant time watching Elmo videos on YouTube until his mother returned. 

Everybody, including Vera and Stephanie, two of the food pantry volunteers, were surprised I had come to work.  When my dad died eight years ago, I came to work that Monday because I had to take care of some work related duties.  I was off the rest of the week after that, but things were different back then.  I was working at a full-time job that provided benefits, and I could afford to take the time off.  These days, I work two part-time jobs (albeit in the same place),  I don't get benefits, and any time lost at work is lost wages.  The main job of dealing with Dad's funeral arrangements fell to my stepmother, but he had insurance to cover things.  As far as I know, Ma had no insurance or money, and as her only living child, everything falls on me. 

So I half-heartedly shadow boxed, and I barely hit the bags.  The rest of the time was spent watching everybody else run drills.  I was the last one out of the gym.  I walked home alone in the rain, my mind still distracted.