There are a multitude of benefits to living alone. Not that this was my first choice, nor would it ever be. But, it is what it is and it ‘aint so bad. One of the nicest parts is that when I choose, I can live in silence. No blaring radio polluting my life with static. No television advertising new drugs that will surely kill you by next week. Just quiet silence in which to reflect on the last days of my 65 year.
VST always needed background noise. Heaven knows, his brain was a busy place. Trying to find the perfect balance between his visions and ability to create them, he needed news and westerns to complete the circuitry in his busy brain. In his last days, soft music provide lift to his angel wings, leaving only sweet memories behind.
One of the perks of being old is the memories that keep us company. Better than any movie or hit novel, memories come and go, reminding me of adventures, accomplishments, and loves along my way. Farm life. My first kiss at 13. Puppies. Lessons learned. Graduations. Births. Children. Teaching. Writing. Deaths. Whether I’m seeking high drama or intense romance, I only need to remember details of my life. It’s all there for my amusement.
Silence allows my other senses to alert me to tackle needed chores around the house. Smells from the refrigerator tell me it’s time for a deep cleaning. Seeing dust bunnies under the bar stools, vacuuming is on the list for this week. Feeling my bangs below my eyebrows reminds me of my 12:30 appointment today to restyle my hair. My inner thoughts finally have a chance to be heard.
A garden grows best while listening to the stories of the birds as the wind whistles its tunes through the leaves. No stomping and tromping of children. No barking and digging of little dogs that cause havoc. No BBQing-boasters telling tall tales. Just quiet peace. The gardens of Winterpast and I have a lot in common.
Autumn is the perfect time for quiet reflection on the past months. As the days go by, I keep waiting for the moment when the last word on widowhood will be written. It only becomes more complex and colorful. Some days the colors are intensely vibrant and rich with possibilities. Other days, the colors are as dark and ominous as those in the desert skies awaiting the coming storm. But always, through the lens of widowhood, my world has changed.
As I ponder these things, I need a few days of silence for reflection. I will return on Monday with tales from the high desert of Northwestern Nevada. Take some time for personal reflection. Enjoy the silence.