I seem to have taken a long sabbatical from blogging. And, I noticed that I was eating for no-good-reason and also exercising less, ditto. It occurred to me that maybe the eating was to replace the writing I wasn’t doing, and that I need to get back into a weekly rhythm of blogging, which requiresContinue reading “A Day in the Life . . .”
Tag Archives: grief
Second Year Blues
I’ve always been rather low-key when dealing with holidays. For instance, in the winter, I prefer the soft warm glow of a Christmas Eve luminaria display over a month of electric glare. But I didn’t expect the whammy that this year brought—even before Thanksgiving. Last year, my loss was fresh, still front-and-center in my attention.Continue reading “Second Year Blues”
After a Long Silence
It has been a beautiful fall, with trees holding their leaves. We had several near or at freezing nights and finally, yesterday morning, a harder freeze. True to their nature, the mulberry trees began their drip drip drip of big leaves piling up beneath trees and on nearby sidewalks. Walking Sophie, I had to leadContinue reading “After a Long Silence”
Going for Change
My life has felt stuck for many months. This second year of loss has been, in ways, more challenging than the first. You can excuse a lot about what you’re doing, or not doing, that first year. But right now I’m tired of being in limbo, yet finding it really hard to break out. OneContinue reading “Going for Change”
Lost Anchors
For the past several days, I’ve been trying to identify a coherent theme for this week’s blog, This morning, a friend, her grief fresher than my own, said, “I feel like I’ve lost my anchor.” That was it exactly! She too had a husband with dementia, and had been making the decisions for them both.Continue reading “Lost Anchors”
Adapting to new realities
My apricot tree rarely produces a bumper crop, but it does its best to produce at least a few fruits each year. This year’s February and March were months of widely varying weather. The apricot’s first buds appeared at the beginning of March, what amazes me is that they continued to appear. Even now, withContinue reading “Adapting to new realities”
Blue
In her journals, Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote about her grief in losing her first born child —the famous Lindbergh baby kidnapping. She spoke of focusing on high-reaching objects (I don’t remember specifically what) but I picture trees or mountains. And in fact, I’ve done a lot of looking up this past year, but recently IContinue reading “Blue”
Winter is icumen in
to paraphrase an old song, but there are no cuckoos to loudly sing in this cold season. And yet, I bought a frost cover for my as-yet-unplanted Earth box. I’m waiting for a warm, encouraging day to put out a few experimental seeds. Sophie’s wonderful groomer retired, putting me in charge of her baths. She’sContinue reading “Winter is icumen in”
Awakenings
The Texas Red Oak in my front yard clings to its leaves long after other trees stand bare. Lately, those leaves have appeared on the back patio. Somehow the wind plucks them, carries them over the house and dumps the load. I’ll sweep up one batch, and if there’s a wind, a new, neatly sculptedContinue reading “Awakenings”
What ifs
If I were to say anything about grief (or my current stage thereof), it’s that connecting with other people helps the griever feel real. Every face-to-face, heart-to-heart encounter is something I am grateful for. Such encounters are happening more often, maybe because I recognize and welcome the healing they provide. Taking Sophie for a walkContinue reading “What ifs”
Kate Harrington 