PAST

PRESENT

Morning T,

Last night I finished reading “The Light of the World”, that memoir that’s taken hold of me.  I was sad to see it end but there’s so much to return to for inspiration as I keep writing about your enormous absence.  I want to capture you/us as powerfully as she did.   What I noticed as I found Elizabeth Alexander’s interviews  on PBS and NPR when the book first came out last spring,  was her calm and energy as she speaks about her journey and her loss. She’s peaceful.  Two years seems to have made a difference! Hope for me.

As you might expect, yesterday was a tough one.  It was rainy and everything out in the world was slowing down as this holiday week get closer. Look, we had our own way of slowing down and savoring the quiet around us. So I needed more of my own energy to create a plan without any friends scheduled for meet-ups.  Seems like everyone else is busy.

I put together a plan to get out of the house by mid morning, but to embrace a tough day I lit a log in the fireplace, moved off the couch to my chair by the window, put on some holiday music(Vince Guaraldi’s Charlie Brown’s Christmas) and returned to my Kindle to read on through tears.  Sweet sadness for the morning start.

It was harder getting out into the world.  The mall was easy to manage at 11.  Easy parking by the gym and inside, an unexpected calm.  I could exercise and then move around a thin crowd of shoppers to get my ticket to one of the many movies to choose from- The Big Short. Surprising though, for the 1:00 feature there was a good amount movie goers.  Probably most there for Star Wars, but I had a healthy crowd in my movie as well. Not sure if I liked it.

As I write about yesterday I have to consider the sadness that followed me from the gym, to a lunch spot, to the movie theater.  I tried to break free but the silence held me in its grip.  I was happy to get back home and put together a new floor lamp I picked up for the bedroom.  I was happy to find a perfect dinner right in my freezer. I was happy to light a fire, pull out a jigsaw puzzle, play more music, make a mini vodka and breathe deeply until I put the living room back together and dragged myself to bed.

I’m remembering the effort it takes to choreograph a solo life.

I know you want me to find my way.  I know you believe I will.

I know that you hate to have me so sad, so miserable without you, but my love, how could this be any easier  after an amazing 20 year ride that created us.

Miss you during holidays.  Miss you always,

Bonnie S.