Category: 2021

You were born at the stroke of midnight!!! We love you already, so please don’t be shy. There’s no way we will accept the possibility that you’ll be as bad as that other year gone. Just by being you, are are already the star of the hour. We closed the books on 2020, the disgusting train-wreck it was. You hold our tomorrows for the next 365 days.

I greet you with open arms. This year is going to hold so many firsts for me. It will hold a healing for the world. I just feel it. For this, we are all breathlessly waiting. I’m excited for my yard to come to life for the second time since I met Winterpast. With a hot tub being delivered in only weeks, the yard will hold new life and fun! Oliver and I plan to have many adventures together this new year as we forge our own new path.

Every day, I choose happiness, health, and hope. There’s always something on the horizon that can become a focal point for positively. I reach for those things and smile, sprinkling fun to my life any way possible. From silly, mindless giggles to well thought out activities, my life will include much more fun this year.

2021 will be the year that I complete my first year as a widow. With everything that was, April 8th will arrive, and time will run right over it, while I remember, as twelve beautiful balloons soar on that day. Before then, I will celebrate my first anniversary without VST on January 23rd. Hard to know how the day will unfold, so I’ll plan a good one. By choice, we will smile in unison, me from here, VST from there. So much goodness to remember and celebrate on this the 33rd year of our marriage. I hope he saves a dance for me.

This year the Vernal Equinox, Summer Solstice, Autumnal Equinox and Winter Solstice will come and go. Each one will hold magical properties, as we again find our holiday traditions and celebrate. We’ll still find things to grumble about, as we force our way out of isolation. The sun will never feel so grand on our skin as when we all join hands to rejoice together. It’s happening in 2021. Find your play clothes and come on out!!!!

2021, you make me giddy as I greet you. I write your name over and over. Such a beautiful number, not like 2020. 2021. Counting on from a nightmare into beauty. So, WELCOME! We want you. We love you already. We celebrate you. Don’t let us down!!!!

Already 1/2/2021, I realize in the action packed frenzy that was my New Year Day, I forgot something important and essential. Resolutions. In this complicated world, we can’t plan for everything, but goals for life have served me well. VST would remind me often of the old saying, “The unaimed arrow never misses.” With that thought, these are the ten top goals I embrace starting off the new year.

1. Healthy Eating. For me, this includes what I eat, as well as when. Being single, meals can be whenever I choose. Breakfast is simple, being built into my routine. It’s the other two that need more structure. With a sugar and flour free diet, my body is the happiest. Carbs are limited to 20 grams a day, which leaves plenty of room for veggies and occasional fruits. Christmas was a diet free zone, but Christmas is over now. Back to reality.
2. Exercise. Living in a neighborhood with beautiful paved streets and limited traffic, I have no excuse to avoid walking. With a high concentration of retired Seniors, the neighborhood is quiet and inviting. The blue skies and white puffy clouds are the perfect place to prewrite upcoming blogs in my brain as I walk along. Oliver loves this resolution and plans to join me. Couldn’t ask for a better walking partner than him.
3. Budget More Effectively. The disaster of 2020 with all the life changes for me was a very expensive one. On the best day, moving into a new home is expensive. My move was no exception. Winterpast expenses are at a minimum now. This year, I need to plan more carefully for the uncertain days ahead.
4. Learn Something New. Publishing! My new interest. How different from the 1900’s. It is possible to publish all on my own, with tools readily available on the internet. With time available and a brain in my head, there is no reason I can’t do this. Five free webinars with the most popular online DYI publishing site are scheduled. I will choose a seat up front and take lots of notes. 2021. Book published. As an aside, I plan to take up watercolor painting this year, too. Don’t forget your creative side.
5. Read More. Return to reading! I can’t wait. Without reading, I never would have run across the beautiful story about WINTERPAST and thus, named my home. Reading transports me to places and times I want to visit. A favorite past time of mine, I plan to do more.
6. Develop New Friendships. I plan to explore my new neighborhood starting on my street. I want to know the names of each family that lives here, and be the kind of neighbor they can call on. Springtime is a great time to meet new people as I complete my front yard project. I’m lucky to live in a neighborhood full of friends I haven’t met yet.
7. See Old Friends. I plan to be a house-guest this year. From northern Washington to the Central Coast of California, I plan to visit people I haven’t seen in way too long. Time is fleeting. I need to gas up and get going.
8. Get Rid of Excess Baggage. Take that however you like. Physical suitcases? Emotional baggage? Junk in the cupboards? This year is the year of the purge. You never know when it will be time to downsize again. I’ll be ready. My service group holds a big yard sale every year and I’ll be donating in a big way. Blogging will help me rid my brain of unnecessary clutter as I share my life with my faithful readers.
9. Be a Tourist. I live in a tourist area. People come from all over the world to see the mustangs, the Icthyosaur, a marine animal whose bones rest in the mountains of Nevada. Ghost towns. Rock fields. Top Gun. The grand Sierras. I plan to be a tourist this year, getting to know all the wonderful places that are within a short drive of me.
10. Live Every Moment. No matter the success of keeping 1-9, I will keep #10. Last year taught me that we all have an unknown expiration date. Age matters not, each one of us has limited time. I refuse to wait for things to happen. Days will be of my own creation and liking. I intend to explode out of bed at dark thirty every morning to write. Because, WRITING IS LIFE! So, let’s LIVE.

Resolve to make your own resolutions!!!!! Make your target Success. With arrows in our quiver and goals in our heads, we can’t miss.

Over the holiday, I shared delightful hours speaking with Webster Girl. She entered my life for a second important time, emailing me the day after VST died. Without any idea tragedy unfolding, she invited me to a Zoom meeting with teaching sisters I hadn’t seen for years. None of them had any idea what we’d been doing, or that VST was even sick. After first meeting in the Spring of 1998, we became teaching friends of the best kind. She is funny, kind, and wickedly funny. I love her.

WG entered Widow’s Wilderness about 8 months before I did. Sadly, we share this alone, none of our teaching friends joining this club yet. Both alone on New Year’s Eve, there was time to talk about the two men we love so much.

One thing agreed upon was this. While surely experiencing devastating losses, unless it’s a spouse, others haven’t experienced a few key situations. Wanting to understand, they remember back to the loss of a grandparent, mother, father, or sibling. A child. A best friend. All totally devastating and life changing in ways that leave the soul crying for one last, “Before you go…..”

The loss of a spouse takes this to another level, entirely. With this loss, one grieves without the person who’d best know how to provide comfort. Know what to say in the right way. Know how to bring out a smile during the darkest of times. Know what food to prepare or what to say during tearful nights. The very person that would just know. Plain and simple. That’s the person that’s gone. A widow’s everything.

VST and I were fortunate we didn’t have dreams of “We’ll do that when…”s. So often we would see couples on their last big adventures, unable to fully enjoy the experience because they waited too long. We promised each other that would never be us, and it wasn’t. VST and I made adventures a priority. For that, I’m so thankful, while accepting there would’ve never been enough tomorrows. Luckily, no regrets.

For many widows, their best years were just starting. Beginning retirements. Settling into a new home. Getting everything set to start enjoying the good life. Just when good things were beginning, they were robbed by death. How cruel when the person, whose company you enjoy the most, vanishes. When your other half dissolves into a poof of memories. Cheated out of “What we could have done’s.” Not fair, but certainly LIFE at its most real and raw.

WG and I discussed how all the physical parts of our homes immediately returned to normal after death. Hospice equipment. Gone. Nurses calling 3-4 x a day. Gone. Furniture. All moved back into place. The space that cradled our guys. Empty air. All happening on the very day they died, underscoring the unbelievable fact that they’d gone. With the house back to normal, we looked on as the heart insisted it never happened, while the mind absorbed the facts, and the eyes became a storm of tears. Even after a long illness, the shock of absence is overwhelming. With a fast and untimely death, it’s almost incomprehensible for new widow.

By second annual holidays, people forget that it is ONLY the 2nd holiday without. There are continuing patches of wilderness with the darkness cold and trees thick. WG just went through this 2nd year, with unexpected experiences. People forget this loss, not meaning to. Another year has past. They wonder why the blues have come to visit again, not quite understanding, they’ll never entirely go away.

Time, family, and friends have helped WG and I. We were able to discuss and laugh about many things, un-laugh-able months before. We shared memories of things to painful to discuss just months prior. Dreams we are making for ourselves and how they will be realized. We’re two women that have become stronger in our journeys through Widows Wilderness together.

Whatever the loss that’s devastated you, I wish for you a friend like WG who knows the darkness of losing a mate, while finding her way remembering things cherished and wonderful. Make sure your friend likes to laugh. It’s healthy. Off you go. One foot in front of the other, while taking another widow’s hand. It’ll make the journey much easier.

Some days are made for remembering. Yesterday was one of those days. Through emails and planning, I was expecting visitors at 10:00 am. I was not prepared to meet the cutest couple I have met in a very long time. I shall call them The Lovelies. The best descriptive name of two people sweet and dearly in love.

I remember being the couple people would gaze at and smile. VST and I had that. Mrs. Lovely was the daughter of the previous owner of WINTERPAST. The two had been married a little longer than VST and I, and made a striking couple. Handsome and beautiful, they complimented one other. A stunning couple.

When they entered WINTERPAST, I was relieved that they approved of how I am caring for the place. It was obvious that this was a place of the happiest of memories and events. I could almost hear the children wrestling on the lawn outside as they told of family gatherings and how much their parents had loved the home. They shared their emotional ties, like bows placed here and there, with stories about times when they were the ones who’s hearts WINTERPAST held.

What they couldn’t know is that those memories opened a window into what I want to experience here. Parties, visiting neighbors, and life long friendships. WINTERPAST holds the promise of those for me.

As I watched this couple I was reminded that time is fleeting. Just last year, VST with his tool belt of wizardry, was reinventing a laundry room for me and building a closet. Thinking back, it would have been time well spent if we would have gone for a walk, or spent a few more minutes holding each other. We were always so busy, forgetting to take an extra few minutes to cuddle in front of a movie, or talk about our secrets late into the night. What I would give for one more evening with him.

The Lovelies are daily readers, and for them, the blog came to life. Oliver was his 2.5 year old puppy self. Crazy and wild with excitement, he had new victims to pull in with his green eyes. This dog has a personality that consumes anyone that meets him. They fell victim to his overwhelming cuteness and wiggles.

Showing the house to them gave me a chance to see it through new eyes, again. I marvel at how all my things magically appeared in the right spaces and spots. Of course, I was the one that decorated, but, it still amazes me at how my things fit perfectly here in this new nest of mine.

Sharing almond poppy seed bread (Krusteaz–bake it 5 minutes less than the box says–so darn delicious), and coffee, a new friendship was formed as I watched them experience the house again. Like taking in fresh air, I’m sure memories of everyone they loved filled their heads as they sat in a new, very old and familiar space.

Beautiful doesn’t even begin to explain our visit or them. I hope that the memory of being back at WINTERPAST comforts them as they think loved ones that sit with VST now, watching over us. I know this beautiful couple already has the secret. Time slips away far too fast. Embrace dreams, but more importantly, embrace each other. Take time. Talk. Snuggle. Enjoy the essence of something so brilliantly beautiful. Make memories as fast as you can. You will never regret doing that.

Yes. The Lovelies came knocking yesterday. What a treat to meet them. I hope they come back soon.

I love the morning in a ridiculous way. At 4:45 AM, my eyes spring open, and I am first thankful that a new dawn is about to break. A daily miracle, it comes so quietly that at first it isn’t even noticed. Slowly, our eyes can see more and more of the outside world. Finally the day is born at sunrise, bright and shiny new. Strength is found in knowing many things positive and life affirming will occur and wait to be acknowledged.

Being a true morning person has had an affect on relationships from time to time. There are those in which the day can’t possibly start before 10 AM. There might be a stirring, or temporary wakefulness, but dreams again take over and sleep resumes. When I was a working teacher, I would love Saturdays in which I might have the luxury of sleeping in a little bit later. But, with farm chores those days didn’t come often. As a retired couple in the RV, the day was half over by 10 AM, with hundreds miles in the rear view mirror. Those arriving early at the next destination got the best spots. There would always be time to rest in the late afternoon before dinner. Through the years, morning routines were reinforced over and over.

Wondering what happens late in the night, I may try staying up past 8PM sometime. I wonder if the magic of the stars can persuade me to flip my internal clock. What different people would I meet and find common interests? Would they understand my views on life? Would they understand me at all? What activities does one undertake at 10 PM? What stores are open if you happen to need a bolt or washer for a DYI project at 9:45PM? Lighting is terrible at night. Things lurk in the shadows ready to pop out and grab you. The toads come out to eat my lawn at night, while the owls ask “Who”? All these things are so much easier when slept through.

I find that my nights are perfect for winding down the jitters of the day. Breathing in and out, anxious fears quiet as I find comfort in dreams. Darkness is a time for privacy, while listening to Oliver make soft puppy sounds in dreamland as he sleeps. I find comfort in hearing the distant train rumble through my little town, whistling at the crossroads to warn night travelers. The wind sings a lullaby, as I listen carefully to the weather the night brings. Even snow has the ability to muffle sounds of the night, making its presence known. Far away, other morning people prepare to end their days, as well. Ending our early shift, and letting others carry on through the dark hours.

Whatever type of person you are, try flipping for a day or two. See what programming catches your interest on television. Go for a walk and see the changed rhythm of the neighborhood. Venture out in the car, seeing what you might have missed. For me, morning will forever be my true love. Beautiful, egg and bacon, orange juice mornings. Sprinklers hissing, garbage trucks rattling, and the day rolling on towards noon. I love mornings. Have a great one.

Reflecting back on the holidays, I’ve taken notes of what worked and what was an utter failure. Being alone failed. Not going to happen again, with a cruise for the 2021 holiday season booked and waiting. Yahoo!! Monthly words and gifts representing VST and I were a huge success. About this, I share.

Each month, a focus word was chosen that we personified. Anyone that knew us would have agreed words like Adventure, Friendship, Ever Lasting Love, or Aloha were great descriptors. During the holidays, choosing Rejoice was perfect, as I rejoiced in the beauty of having VST as my mate for 32 years. For the first 6 months, I purchased a Christmas present reflecting each word. Something tangible that I could open and hug Christmas Eve. This was ultimately a great idea, as these were the six presents I had to open this year. Although he had been gone 8 months Christmas Eve, the need to buy a present the last two months wasn’t there. I stopped buying gifts at Month 6.

Ordering things each month, two were personalized. A blanket with special words organized in jigsawed fashion, and a personalized book. Both came gift wrapped, so there was no peaking for months until Christmas came. Both made me cry in a good way.

The blanket, although not the quality I would have liked, is a beautiful thing in which to cocoon myself on chilly evenings. Navy blue and white with fleece backing, it had words and phrases about us. January 23, 1988. VST loves EJ. Oliver. Things about our lives. My favorite. “Home is where you are, Darlin”. I chose the words carefully, turning them into something beautiful.

The book was an entirely different surprise altogether. I’d looked on a site that promised a personalized hard bound book for someone you love. I entered very little information, including our names, gender, and color of hair for each of us. Just a few little details. Never did I expect to get the book that was delivered. As I read this little story, it was about us, as if VST had written it for me. I’ve only been able to read it once, so far, on Christmas Eve. How it managed to reflect our lives together is a mystery to me. Maybe artificial intelligence located in my new fridge???? Spies listening? At any rate, it was perfect for me. With each gift, I enclosed a little card to myself reflecting on important things I should remember. What he WOULD have told me if only he COULD. Those were the right things to read on my very sweet first Christmas Eve all alone.

Happiness was represented by another cute gift. I bought a Giant Sunflower tire cover for my Jeep Wrangler. VST always called the Jeep “Barbie’s Jeep”. Although he did the driving, we bought the Jeep for me, never dreaming I would be the sole driver just one year later. The sunflower will represent me as I drive along new roads, having fun doing it. I haven’t seen one on the road yet, so, my ride will be individualized. Just one great big sunflower, my favorite.

Deep in Widow’s Fog I was during Month 1 – Food, Shelter, Clothing. Always finding myself cold, I was in need of was a new sweater, my old ones becoming threadbare. The sweater came from Amish country. Four ply cashmere, black, thick, and beautiful. When wearing it, I’ll get a special “First Month Gone” hug from VST. He loved supplying cashmere to warm his forever-cold wife. Thoughtful in the sweetest ways was he.

For Adventure, a framed selfie of my first solo Lake Tahoe Cruise in August now sits on the book shelf. When looking at that picture in Lake Tahoe frame, it takes me back to the drive up the mountain that day. I felt so free and adventurous. It’s a mini vacation every time I look at it.

Faith, is spelled a metal sign. Simply, Faith. It hangs with two beautiful pictures K had framed for me. One of VST by a pristine Sierra Lake, and the other of the sunrise on the morning he left us, while we had him still. The sky was cloud-filled, colored the deepest oranges and purples, at the time of day I love the most. K caught that, keeping it for us as a memory and reminder that Faith is all we have in life.

So, it’s January. If you’re a person that doesn’t start things unless you can do it for the entire year, start now. Choose a January word. You have time. Write about it. Put up signs around your house to remind you. Write it with erasable pen on your bathroom mirror. But, most importantly, wrap your heart with it, like a warm blanket. When things get tough, it’ll help you stand tall and remember the person you lost in the best way ever. A hug from them. A hug to yourself. A beautiful way to remember we must celebrate ourselves!

In this brave new world, one of the saddest things lost is the telephone conversation. Remembering the days of corded phones, life needed to stop while we chatted with a new love or best friend. Drama or gossip, it was delicious and shared over the phone. The cord kept us grounded. Tethered. Conversations had a beginning, a middle, and an end. How many times we would wait for the phone to ring. How many times would we cry when it didn’t. So much drama existed around the phone, life and death included.

When our children were home, life on the farm was hopping. On weekends when I cooked for seven, the kitchen was a busy place around meal times. I would always have Best-ies checking in to see what weekend activities were planned. It was for those multi-tasking moments that I purchased a 20′ phone cord. It was great for allowing me a working range from stove to sink. From cooking to washing dishes. There I was tethered to the wall, yet able to move around the room. Those were days and conversations I wish I could have all over again.

Now, phones are an obnoxious necessity. Every phone should contain I.C.E. contacts, in case an emergency strikes. Phones capture our every activity in selfies. They know our locations in case of danger. They hold our daily calendars. Entertain us or our kids. All hold the all important TEXT messages. And we can still receive an occasional phone call.

When texting was new, VST thought I’d made up the word “texted”. Each time, he’d correct me, saying one should say, “I sent a text message,” or “I typed a message.” After years, he finally accepted that texting and texted were words.

The last text received from him was on March 30th, days before he died. We had spent the morning in Reno with T and K, getting a liver biopsy and paracentesis. Not a fun morning at all. He was sore, tired, and needed a rest when we got back home. I needed to take K to see WINTERPAST one more time as I continued with the purchase. So, K and I left him in the care of T, his son.

His last message to me read, “Where are you?” Looking at that message now, I wish I’d have just taken a nap with him. Held him a little longer. Not let him wake to find me missing. At that point, he depended on me for everything, and my absence was upsetting to his state of mind. His question was honest and heart felt, as we were always together. 24/7. That’s the way we rolled. Two-for-one. His message remains a haunting reminder of the question I ask often of him now. “Where are you?”

Texts should never be used for anything significant. Not for long dissertations about troubling things. About sadness or anger. They should never be a substitute for being there, or at least talking by phone. Sharing important feelings is one thing that sets relationships apart from random interactions. That’s the part that artificial intelligence just can’t get right. Words on a screen are not the correct way to handle the most important parts of life.

When I’m in “Barbie’s Jeep” driving, there are 10 choices of predetermined answers. From “Okay” to “I’m running late” with eight choices in between. That’s really what texts should be for. A little message that you are on your way, or may be late. Not a way to be “present” while you are really busy doing other things.

If you are lucky enough to have family and friends close, please call them the old fashioned way. Let them know you love hearing their voices. Listen for laughter as they delight in your call. Let them share audible tears with you if you need to cry. Be human, and talk. Distracted driving is something we should avoid. Distracted interactions is another. Pick up the phone and call. You won’t regret it.

Boredom is the true sign of a weak and a lazy mind. Auntie God Mom always reminds me of that. We agree on so many topics. There is always something one can do to fill an empty day. On my summers breaks from teaching, I could easily stay at home for a week at a time. Never move the car. Never even take a walk off our property, while just making a home while being a homemaker. I love having a neat and organized space in which to cocoon.

In the 90’s, I knew an elderly woman who taught me tips about cleanliness and organization I hold dear today. She was the Queen of Clean. At any rate, she once explained to me that she never saved cards. Beautiful cards from family who lived far away. Read and tossed. Sentimental cards from her husband of 60+ years. Read. Smile. Toss. An old habit it was of hers. I’d never seen anyone so adamant about this. One day, I asked her reason, needing to know why she was this way. In her very sage and wise way, she answered.

“Joy, someday Bill will be gone. The last thing I want to find is a lovely card from him reminding me of the very moment he gave it to me and the hugs we shared on that occasion. I love Bill’s cards and he knows that. But, to keep them is like keeping a drawer of grenades. There may come a day they’ll leave me in an explosion of tears.”

Over time, I reflected on her words while deciding my own position on cards. About ten years ago, I finally decided there was some truth to what she said, and started disposing of them. She was right. As long as everyone was above ground, it was easy to smile at their beauty and then give them the Heave Ho. I was pretty thorough, or so I thought.

Yesterday, while finding things to do to pass the day, I noticed the drawers in my nightstand needed de-cluttering and so I began. Spare change. Old eye glasses. Things in that needed to go out. Pens and pencils that had migrated from my desk. All the usual suspects. Quietly, under a flashlight, a measuring tape, and three books, the grenades waited. Ready to make me explode into a flood of tears were two cards.

The first one read as follows.

“Happy Birthday to my Wife, Who has sensational charm, A dazzling wit, A fun-loving nature, A smile that won’t quit, Incredible passion, A gleam in her eye…And a husband who knows he is one lucky guy.” Love you, VST. Thank you for such a good 32 years. (Hallmark Cares) Two little bears were on the card in a variety of cute poses, just as little bears on cards often are. It’d been more than a year since I’d seen this, being given on my 2020 birthday.

Well, that one was hard. But, the next one was even more so, written on our Anniversary last year.

“What do I mean when I say I love you? I mean I’d do anything for you. I mean I’m in this for keeps. I mean your funny and smart and beautiful to me. I mean I love you. That’s what I mean. Happy Anniversary.” (Hallmark)

Sweet enough in luscious, heavy cream stock with roses on the front. But what he wrote himself blindsided me.

“Thanks for the best 32 years of my life. Love, VST”

In his shakiest, sweetest, left-handed writing, his words and sentiment alone were precious. Just like that, he could have been in the kitchen bringing me a bottle of water. I find myself wondering how nine months could have passed since he died. He just wrote this for me. He just held me as we shared a kiss and I told him “Thank you”. He was just here. But, JUST is nine months ago today.

Having time to think about this experience, I have no advice for or against saving cards. I know these two are the most precious things I could have found while cleaning out a nightstand drawer. Cards that have rested there waiting for me to find them. A message to remind me how lucky I was to have a man that knew how lucky he was to have me. Yes, VST. Absolutely the best 32 years of my life, too. Thanks, VST. Happy 9th Month in heaven. Tell everyone Hello for me. I miss you.

Covid times. Boring times. Sad times. Isolated times. All true. But, also times when our brains can finally slow to a pace in which we find new outlets for creativity. 2021 is the year of publishing for me. This is not a “Maybe”. Not a “We’ll see.” This is a scheduled event now, in which my calendar holds dates and goals to be reached. As VST said always, “The unaimed arrow never misses.” Target goals are set.

For this year, I plan to finish my trilogy. Lofty goal, but, I have hours in a day to complete this. Much more valuable using time in this manner, rather than losing minutes to mindless television, or worse, wretched news. VST always had a television on. Some kind of noise was needed, even to sleep. I find the sound of silence so refreshing. There’s never a perfectly silent time. Always little noises around coming from life as it happens. I love days when the television remains off.

At this point in life, I have so many blessings. I am relatively young. Attractive, some say. Intelligent. Smart. Inquisitive. Energetic. Creative. Compile a list about the things you are. Every choice must be positive. You will find, you are things all your own! Just ripe for finding a new interest.

I hadn’t given webinars any thought at all, until I received a random email. Each webinar is about an hour long with a professional speaking about a topic specific to publishing. I signed up for all they have to offer. I’ve watched three so far. Amazingly, they aren’t advertisements, as one would expect, but instead, valuable information on self publishing books. One of the authors had a great point. If you are smart enough to write a book, you are also smart enough to publish it online. That is now my affirming statement.

So, think of something to investigate! Something out of the box! New! Courageously bold! Begin by researching it for 15 minutes on the computer. It could be anything from attending free Harvard seminars, to becoming a TED speaker. Learning how to cook French Cuisine. Learning more about the Bible. Training you dog. Just choose one thing and start to investigate.

I knew nothing about blogging when I started. I just did. Found a free site, with a free template, and in very short order, I was up and writing. Healing and happiness have flowed out of my fingers into cyberspace. For that and for you, my readers, I am eternally grateful. I won’t keep you any longer. You need to find that new interest. It will give you a new look on life. So, go. Have fun today!

January 10th!!! Month 10 is still new! Bundled in my fleece jammies with wool slippers on my feet, I remember fall and the lovely weather. The leaves rustling in brilliant color. Mustangs, standing on every hill, looking for water and food. Walks at any time of day, pleasantly breezy and warm. I also remember how much I feared this first winter alone. As it turns out, this winter is where I find my first book. It’s where I find myself cocooning and liking the quiet solitude. It’s where I find I am my own best company. Another surprise of widowhood firsts.

This month I find out what I’m made of, as it’s our anniversary month. January 23rd will memorialize, 33 years ago the day that VST and I exchanged vows in front of family and friends. Auntie God Mom, Uncle Cool Guy, and CC were there, “with bells on”. Not sure where that phrase actually originated. Getting dressed up as a girl, if we were attending a fancy event, everyone would go “with bells on”, yet I never saw one bell. Quite sure CC is shaking her head, because she definitely never wore a bell in her life. Now, Auntie God Mom is another story.

That morning, there was no way that I, as a beautiful young woman of 31, could have known how that day would drive my life through our forever. VST was devastatingly handsome. That was a given. His intelligence and forethought in every aspect of life took us on the best adventures, while I added Sagittarian optimism, spunk, and fun. We were a power couple that didn’t know we were while being too busy planning goals and living out each day.

Respect was a cornerstone for our relationship. I respected his core values and the essence of who he was. I received that respect in return. We argued, pouted, plotted, and did all the normal couple things while in disagreement, but, we never crossed the line into disrespect. Those issues we battled remained sacred, shared only between us. Neither of us were the type that included friends and family into our issues. Those were privately handled with respect. Some of our finest hours as two.

When I look at the world today, the lack of simple respect is astounding. Everyone insistent that their way is the only way, and that way will be how things will go. Somewhere respect and discussions about differences have been lost. Something that costs nothing but the time needed to count to 10, breathe deeply, and listen to one another. How simple. A prayer for respect in the world would be helpful.

January 8, I released 9 balloons, beautiful in their brilliant colors. As I released them, four got caught in one of my bare trees. I thought of many things at it happened. I know VST didn’t want to leave me, the kids, or any of his friends. He wasn’t ready to be whisked away by cancer. The tree at that moment represented cancer, holding VST’s brilliance in its clutches. But, the four fragile balloons struggled to get free and rise heavenward. They did one by one. It was so beautiful to see them finally disappear into the beautiful blue desert sky, one by one. He is free. He made it on that cold spring morning right before Easter. Respectfully, and with such great love, I let him go.

I respect all the things VST taught me. So many things, it would be impossible to list them all. From things about the workings of a toilet to tax information. From the hundreds of uses for duct tape when farming to unique and crazy dance steps only VST could pull off as his dimples charmed me. But most of all, I’ve learned that respect is a corner stone for any new relationship formed in my life. With that foundation, anything is possible and worth keeping a lifetime.

I miss you VST. Enjoy your 10th month in heaven.