“Collect things you love, that are authentic to you, and your house becomes your story.”

My story is packed away in boxes stacked neatly in a 10x10 square. I chose my treasures wisely, selecting those with the grandest of stories. My great-grandfather’s bowler hat and walking stick. I remember when I was very young, my grandpa would play a tune on the fiddle and Grandpa Richardson would dance a soft-shoe across the back porch. I have my grandma’s churn and treadle sewing machine. My grandmother’s radio.

“Our Handprints in the Driveway”

Handprints in wet cement. Something so few of us have the privilege to do….to build a house from the ground up. Then comes the fun part…filling it with love and laughter and family, and turning it into a home. That’s what we did, the Divine Miss H and me. We anxiously waited for the day they poured the driveway. We put our hands in and celebrated as if we were getting our stars in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater. She was 10.

“Breathe”

The thought that my love was once in a lifetime paralyzed me. It made me so sad to think I could never have that again. Then I remembered….I didn’t pass the clairvoyance test and I have no earthly idea what the future holds for me. Am I destined to be alone and sad and lonely and miserable for the rest of my life? Heck no. I am destined to remind myself that my HUSBAND died…I didn’t. I have an obligation here…I OWE it to him to live those days of life that he was deprived of. I owe it to my children and my grandchildren to go out and do something with my life and show them how to be a widow because someday it may be them and I want them to be prepared. And I owe it to myself to live every day of my life. Actually LIVE it…and I can’t do that if I look backwards all the time. Do I miss my man? Hell yes! Would I give my right arm to have him back? You bet your sweet patootie! But that ain’t gonna happen so I’m makin’ lemonade here as fast as I can. Everyone’s grief is different. I honor that. My heart goes out to anyone going through this because it’s the suckiest thing I have ever done and I am sure it is for everyone else. My life, my future is in God’s hands but I’ll be darned if I’m just going sit and cry every day for what’s left of it! Feeling determined!

“I’ve loved to fish since I was knew high to a grasshopper!”

I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately. Saturday night, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. I was hot, dirty and exhausted. My feet were killing me and I was feeling overwhelmed. So I did what I usually do. I called a buddy up and he made me laugh hard about some ridiculous thing. Then I texted back and forth for awhile with a couple of my gal pals. Around 8 o’clock, my brother/friend Greg called and said those three little words every woman wants to hear…“I’ll make dinner!” Yes! I went over right away (we live a few blocks apart). We laughed and caught up with each other’s lives. He cooked and let me ramble on about all the packing and purging I’ve been doing. He gave me Aleve for my sore foot and ice to press into the sore places. He rubbed my shoulders then he did the best thing any friend can let a widow do. He let me lean back against him on the couch while I talked about my loss and the changes I am bringing into my life in the coming months. He is as much a brother to me as my own and I felt so much better when I went home.

Maya Angelou meme

We face loss…real, imaginary, potential…every day of our lives. Often the topic death resides just out of reach in our minds. We know it’s lurking in the shadows, but there is so much more to occupy us that we turn away. But what happens when the whole world is dark? When there is no bright and shining path to lead us forward? When you see no way out of your pain? When mistakes made seem insurmountable and things are only going from bad to worse? Far too often, these lost souls choose to end their lives rather than go on. They whisper secrets to Death hoping he’ll be their friend and carry them away from their pain.

“Hugs”

The other night, one of my favorite young men drove two hours just to help me move some heavy furniture. He and my youngest were in diapers together and I always prayed that someday they would get married and he would be my other son-in-law. Alas, they did become infatuated in their mid-teens and they kissed once. They both laughed so hard at the absurdity of dating someone who was, in nearly every sense of the word, a sibling. I am still thrilled he will be in my life forever.

“Aim True!!!”

I am closing in on the final week before listing my house for sale. This is the big push, and two of those days I have to work. Yowza! I am listing on Friday the 13th….my birthday. My Day of Jubilee. Certainly my day to take that great, big, HUGE, exciting, scary step out on the limb and jump! I have helpers starting to arrive tonight. I am bartering a bed and beer for hard work. I have the window washer coming Monday or Tuesday. I have a house cleaner coming Tuesday. I have the carpet cleaner coming Wednesday. And the real estate people at the end of the week. This is exhausting yet exhilarating!!! Bring it on, world…..I’m Superwoman!!!

“Mr. Virgo’s Golf Clubs”

Bits and pieces of a life. That is all I physically have left of Mr. Virgo. His clothes are mostly gone…just bits and pieces left: his leather bomber jacket, a belt, his cowboy boots, the sweater I loved him in. His toiletries are mostly gone…except for bits and pieces: a bottle of his cologne, his favorite soap, his electric razor. I have his golf clubs and his war medals and the picture of us dancing at our wedding. Just bits and pieces of a life well lived yet too soon over.

“Good Morning, Colorado!”

Ok, waking up to this does not suck! Climbing back in bed with a fresh cup of French pressed coffee and listening to the birdsong is just further evidence of God. This was in a section of the campground reserved for groups so not everyone gets to see this!

Colorado is an odd state. We go from the furnace inside to the furnace outside in a matter of days. When the temp gets up in the eighties, I start sleeping in TOW-Wanda…even if it’s at the curb in front of my house. The other night, I was just drifting off when a fox and a feline of some sort decided to have an altercation right under my open window. Have you ever heard a fox bark? It sounds like a woman screaming. I about jumped through my skin!

“Daughter #2 Playing Dress-up”"

I am “off the grid” for a few days of R&R with some girlfriends. No water, no electric, no cell service for 30 miles. Bliss!

Today’s post is about walking down memory lane. One of the chores I’m having to do with downsizing is going through boxes of pictures. I’m dividing them into separate boxes…one for each of the girls, one for each of their dads, and one for my brother. I’m keeping those I am particularly attached to and throwing away those scenic photos of leaves and caterpillars that I thought were ever so artsy back in the ’80s. Those photos that mom took with the tops of our heads cut off? Gone. Those pics my grandma took from 30 feet away at the family gatherings and unless you were there you couldn’t tell who any of the people are? History. Those snapshots taken of me when I was going through a particularly sad, dark time in my life? Who needs to be reminded how awful that was? Then I come across a portrait like this one. My baby girl. My last baby. The one who didn’t have to wear hand me downs…that I could play dress-up with and take to high tea. The one I indulged because I could, whether it was good for her in the long run or not. Look at that smile. She marched to her own drum from the day she was born. My lastling. She’s 24 now. A senior in college. She just started a new job. She’s a woman now….but in my heart, she will forever be the little girl in this picture. Love you, Moon Pie!