My, oh my. One year of memories weigh heavy in my heart. I hope the lessons learned in the next week are minor compared to those from the prior 11 months, 3 weeks. Never in my wildest dreams could I have predicted the horrible turn of events that came knocking last year. No one could. A schooling of a very cruel sort began in the winter of 2020, that of which I’d wish on no one.
A brittle twig will not bend. I learned there’s not a correct way to grieve. One needs to be flexible, just like my old apricot tree. When the winds come and blow away the leaves, there she is, shivering but strong. Although fierce winds blow, her branches remain strong as they move with the gusts. There were so many days full of plans that needed to slow to a snails pace, because I could go no faster. I would make the most fantastic scheudules, only to find that, when the day arrived, it was more than I could accomplish. Take for instance, the Beach House.
Months and months ago, I decided that I would spend VST’s Heaven-er-sary at our Central California Beach. The one at the RV park where we spent so many weeks between 2017 -2019. The cute little house and all her windows point to the Pacific Ocean. That little house would be mine for a week. From April 5-11, I’d enjoy the waves, while dolphins lept and sea birds dove.
When VST and I would visit this little town, we would head out on the pier to our secret resting spot. Benches line the pier, but there is one on which we would always sit awhile. Norm’s memorial bench. Norm, who would be well over 100 by now, was a great guy who was a friend to everyone he met. He had served on the school board with my dad, and his wife was my God Mother’s teacher in elementary school. Seeing who could get to the bench first, VST and I would sit and talk. It was there the ocean went crazy one day with a flurry of dolphins, whales, gulls and other sea birds. Every animal in the sea that day was in front of the pier, with the ocean churning in a frothy soup of activity. It was a breath taking show just for the two of us.
That bench represented a familiar face from the Central Valley. A farmer VST knew well. Someone who’s name was spoken often in my house as a child. A man so good that an elementary school was named after him. We always found it to be a beautiful place to think about things. Sometimes VST and Oliver would go and rest alone. I could see them from the rig, suspended over the breaking waves as they watched the surfers just below them.
As the weeks went by, I realized that to drive almost 500 miles in one day would be a lot for me to handle. Last week, I realized that to complete that trip was more than optimistic during a very emotional week. Sadly, I canceled. The drive was a factor, for sure. But going to the town that held so much delight for us on our visits on the one year anniversary of his death would prove to be too much stress for me at this time.
Learning to be flexible has been the biggest lesson. Through packing, moving, unpacking, and making a new life, I found that an inventory of core beliefs and values was necessary. Ways that things had been done in the past might need to be changed up. Just as I cleaned my closet, I had to purge my heart and start anew. Thank goodness the move occurred. So many friends worried about the choice of moving 17 days after VST’s death. There was no choice in the matter. The DunMovin House was sold. Winterpast was purchased. In the middle, there I was, between here and there. Between Widow and Woman. Suspended in a bridge of fog.
Accepting What Is. That was another big lesson. In the past year, I traveled through landscapes of different kinds.
The Bargaining Basement of Dispair, Shock and Denial. “If Only………. ”
The Forest of Pain and Guilt…….. “I miss him so much. If only I had…..”
The Ocean of Anger and Bargaining………”Why Me???? This isn’t fair……. ”
The Reconstructive Meadow of Working Through—-“This IS something I can do now…….”
The Spring Time Orchard of Acceptance and Hope. “What a beautiful life this is!”
Because, life IS beautiful and I’m so very blessed to have had a beautiful one so far.
Choosing Happiness. This has been the most fun lesson of all. Through this entire experience, on so many days, I would tell the mirror, “I can Choose sorrow and anger. Or. I can choose Happiness.”
There really is no good choice other than happiness. In the beginning, I’ll admit, there were days I needed to fake it until I could make it. But, in the end, who wouldn’t choose happiness for themselves and those around them. It’s all in how you pick something up and look at it. There is something positive to be gained from every situation, even the bleakest ones. And mine was pretty bleak.
I’m certain there will be more days when the bed seems like the best place to be. When just getting a cup of coffee will be a chore, or when I need the tissues close to dry my tears. But, there will also be days of celebration. I’m on my way to Year Two and the next year will be bright and promising. Full of new discoveries and adventures. Of that I am quite sure.