Hi there. If you have found me, I am assuming we are on parallel journeys not of our own choosing. My name is Joy. I have always loved my name and the positivity it inspires. Sadly, on April 8, 2020, JOY left my life and for a time, has been replaced by grief in the time of Covid.
Stark. Blank. Hollow. Empty. Vacant. Grieving alone is all of those things. Everything we need at a mask and 6 feet away, we are navigating this lonely wilderness the best way we can.
I am a 64 year old widow of almost 6 months. I am a gardener, first and foremost, but now, soil is sprinkled with tears and sadness. Please, come along on the journey of my first year. We can plant, till, and reap benefits from supporting each other. As the seasons change, we will bloom again together.
The Collective Parts of Me
The Old Me
In a time and land so distant to me now, I grew up a farmer’s daughter in the Central Valley of California. After earning my BA, I also earned the coveted title of MRS., had two children, divorced, single-mommed, and then married my true love, VST. We had a long, beautiful marriage ended by cancer. He left quietly, thieved by death, escaping out an open window on a Virginia City morning. He tried to stay, but, was whisked away before we knew what happened. Just like that.
The Working Me
I was a teacher for 20 years, and a farmer for 17, simultaneously. I have taught K-12 through the years, spending 12 years in 3rd grade, where I left a piece of my heart. I taught continuation high school for two years, becoming Secondary Teacher of the Year for my district in 2010. My real calling came when I taught kids at a children’s hospital. There, I earned 35 angel students in 5 years. They are at recess now, playing in heaven. I instructed them that they should listen for the school bell when I arrive. Our lessons will then begin again.
The Now Me
I am now a widow. Just like that. Gardening still, with a side of grieving. I live in the high desert and have found I am okay living alone with my dog buddy, Oliver. We are surviving the loss of VST, and hate it. Together, we mourn, while gardening our tears away. He helps with soil tillage. I find comfort in growing beautiful things. I am a grieving gardener, but, I know, my Winter has Past. My life is new, and different. That is the me I wish to share.