I haven’t posted here in a while, in more than two years actually. Time does fly.
To catch you up quickly: a lot has happened, but all is well.
In the fall of 2018, my husband Dave died suddenly while undergoing open heart surgery. The day before, the surgeon said he expected the procedure to go fine, that only about three percent of such surgeries go awry. Awry it went. One day we were telling silly stories and dancing in his hospital room, the next he was in surgery for 11 hours, and then … gone.
I had never experienced anything like the grief that came next. At first, the flurry of activity kept me grounded and family and close friends surrounded me with love. We got through those initial weeks clinging to each other, planning a celebration of life worthy of our beloved husband, father, brother, friend and sifting through old photos, reminiscing.
But then all became quiet and numb. My brain was foggy, my body exhausted, and days and weeks passed in a blur. I read book after book about grief, finding particular solace in two: A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, and The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. Says Didion:
“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it…. Nor can we know ahead of the fact (and herein lies the heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning….”
Meaning has begun to return to my life now as I realize how grateful I am for the ten years Dave and I had together, for the beautiful collage of a family we crafted, and for the everyday blessings – big and small – that still make life good.
Since I last posted here, I have had a lot to be thankful for: I connected with a great weekly discussion group through my church, made new friends, and deepened or renewed my relationships with some old ones. On long, restorative daily walks, I reconnected with nature and bonded with our dog, Binkx. My daughter graduated from high school. We navigated an amazing trip to Morocco before she flew from our nest to her college dorm. I joined a fabulous group of women photographers on a trip to Oaxaca, Mexico with The Giving Lens. Dave’s youngest daughter graduated from 8th grade, and we celebrated with extended family (safely) in spite of Covid-19. I sold our home and bought a beautiful condo, where I’ve been holed up safely for the duration of this pandemic.
Gratitude has become my vaccine. And photographing life in lively progress brings healing, too.
