Take me home. I thought you might like to see what I see when I drive out to the farm. OMGosh…how I love this road! Several years ago, I discovered I could “drive” down this old country road on Google Earth by getting down on the street level view. It became my secret obsession…at least once a week I would log on my iPad and “go home”. And now? Now I get to live here and see this every single day. I am SO grateful for this opportunity. I thanked my uncle again yesterday and he assured me he was just as grateful that I am here taking care of the place for him. He lives too far away and family obligations keep him from making the trip more than once or twice a year.

This serene setting gives me plenty of opportunity to reflect on the miracles of my life. The twists and turns. The potholes…HUGE potholes. But also the peaks. You cannot appreciate the peaks if you haven’t been mired in the valleys. Eleven years ago today I had my first date with Mr. Virgo. We met at a little restaurant in Basalt, CO. He brought me a rose. He was charming. Devastatingly handsome. Funny. A good listener. Easy going. Tall. I love tall men. We had a long lunch, good conversation, and a kiss goodbye at the car. It was cold and drizzly that day. I remember feeling warmed by that kiss.

I miss that man. I always will. I’m grateful I’m in a different space in my head, and my heart, now. I can look back at every aspect of our life together and feel happiness…most of the time. I can appreciate the fact that I had him in my life, albeit for too short a time. If I allow myself, I can still revisit the pain his loss gave me. The emptiness, the fear, the longing. Sometimes it’s good to go there for a little while to work on some grief. But it doesn’t serve me in my everyday life to stay there too long. The pain gets in the way of celebrating his life…MY life. I’d rather dance with him on my shoulder than sit with his memory in the dark. Dancing is life affirming. And…I am very much alive!

I’m finding joy again. In the simple ticking of the clock I bought him on his last Christmas. I hung it here in the dining room. I find joy in the memory of his face when I presented him with the painting I did of Mt. Sopris for his 60th birthday. I hung it here in the living room. I find peace knowing I have a lock of his gorgeous silver hair that I can touch any time I want. I keep it in a red leather box along with our wedding bands.

Living at the farm has another benefit. Mr. Virgo isn’t lurking around every corner here like he is in Colorado. He was only here once so there are very few memories of him at the farm. They mostly revolve around standing behind the barn while he smoked and that isn’t one of my favorite memories. Smoking took him away from me. There are a few good memories here with him, though. One night we stood on the back porch and listened to a bear in the woods near the house. One afternoon we hiked back on the hill and put our names in the old church registry. We tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep in a double bed in the dead heat of August.

I dreaded getting to this point in my grief journey where he didn’t occupy every thought. But this is good. This is where I’m supposed to be. He isn’t “gone”. He’ll never be totally gone. He lives on in my heart and sometimes he makes his presence known, and I smile…almost always. For that I am most grateful.

❤️

“Lord my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭30:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬