Sunday marked one year since Ken’s memorial service. That service was my last commitment to all the people who were mourning Ken’s death – his family, friends, pottery and produce customers, acquaintances. It marked the end of what I thought of as a very public life.
I had sold pots two weeks earlier, and now the pots were at two galleries. I no longer wanted people coming up my driveway at all hours (did I ever tell you about the couple shopping by headlights in the dark for a wedding present the night before a wedding?).
It was time to mourn and grieve alone or quietly with people I chose when I chose.
It has been quite a year. I had to stand up for myself, insist on privacy, grieve, mourn, start sorting and making decisions at my own pace, figure out what I could do, what I wanted to do, what I could afford to hire someone else to do. And what I had to just let go.
I had help and support from many and unexpected places.
I took on new tasks. I fed people. It felt good to cook and help and not always be the person needing help. I felt safe in their homes and it was good to get out.
I started sorting and clearing and making space. I started giving things away to people who could use them
I began exercising. I swim two or three times a week, and do an exercise routine, tai chi and chant each morning
I have started building a new life. By myself. But not alone. I am deeply grateful to all who have helped in small and big ways. I have felt and continue to feel fortunate.
Your life continues to exhibit so many surprising strengths. Unusual for a Massachusetts babe. Must have been the subversive, librarian Mom and wild New York Dad that developed your super powers?. Just saying…. love you
…and that wild French Canadian Swede, too, combined with the Great Midwest and my potter farmer husband. It all came together.