Monday, March 22, 2010

Difficult Days

The last several days: very, very difficult.

At lunch, a friend sat down with someone new to me, someone who, as it turned out, lost her husband ten months ago. A midlife marriage, no children, deep closeness, and then ~ just over, she said.

We talked, a little.

I didn't have much to say. I was aware, in some vague place I hate, of how little of her experience I comprehend.

It's a place from which I recoil because it's the one in which I am aware of how profoundly alone we are.

I wandered through it a couple of weeks ago when Musical Friend, on the second anniversary of her husband's death, was challenged by someone else about how she had spent part of the day.

And then a few days after that when the funeral of a friend was the occasion for further acknowledgment of how different our apparently similar experiences are.

And then this lunch. I said that my inner, deepest core is a place of such complete sorrow now.

I said that most of the day, although no one would know it, my mind is engaged in thoughts and images far from what lies before us or from what we are discussing.

And our mutual friend said that that will go away.

With all the confidence of someone whose children are all alive.

I said that I didn't think so.

The woman who has lost her husband said that hers, her inner core, is filled more with anxiety. She is, evidently, quite shaken by the speed and completeness with which life changes.

I said nothing. I know quite a bit about that, but nothing at all from her perspective.

I thought that it would not be wise to try to challenge her, or to insist that things will change.

I couldn't see any reason to sharpen the blade of loneliness that slices the space between us.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Eighteen-Plus Months

Sometimes I still need to write over here, in relative anonymity.

Still in the house tonight. The Quiet Husband went out of town to visit his family for the day, Gregarious Son is at work, and The Lovely Daughter is over the the house of the new man in her life.

I was thinking, earlier, about another spring, 2001. Once the kids started school, we always spent the last two weeks of March in St. Augustine, so tonight we were probably packing up. I looked at the photos from that year - they all look so young! The Lovely Daughter and friends in their middle school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, performed right before spring break; the boys, tenth graders, in soccer and high school t-shirts; all of them in the pool in Florida late at night and on the beach all day.

It was a great life.

I knew it was a great life. So much more than I could have ever imagined. So much love and laughter, so much energy and humor.

So much lost.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Move to New Blog

In real life, I don't think that I can ever move. We've lived in this house 26 years and I am a Keeper of Papers and Books and Photos and Clothes That No Longer Fit.

Although ~ I recently talked to a couple who've downsized to a city condo. They told me that it's a two year project, and I believe them. Truthfully, I would love to move down the hill to one of the brand new condos in Little Italy ~ only a few short blocks from University Circle and its museums, the orchestra, and some wonderful possibilities for walking. Or even better ~ to a condo on the lake. (I'm sure those are priced well beyond our means. But the fantasy is a good one.)

If I find myself without employment this summer, I may make a dent in the two-year project.

Anyway, moving to a new blog is complicated, but there are no 20-year-old tax returns and children's artwork to discard. So I'm almost settled in over at


Come and visit!

If I can ever launch the new camera, I'll host a housewarming party.