I ran into a friend today who commented that she had been following my posts. It occurred to me that I hadn't done anything in a long time! Looks like I took over a month off. That last post was the end of February!
I have continued to create journal pages and continue to find it very helpful. Over these past few weeks I have tried to move ahead, but found that my focus has been on holding on to the last few weeks before the one year anniversary of George's death.
As you will see in some of the pages that follow, I hung his photographs in an exhibit at our local library and gave a talk about the book...trying to find my way. On to the images...
This first one is from early March. I am struggling to 'break through some cracks'. I came upon this wonderful quote (I can't remember where so am unable to give credit). It puts things into perspective in a new way.
Yes, some things are getting easier - note: not easy, but easier. Looking for a new normal. I love the quote in the black box.
Breakfast was our special time. We were coming up on Daylight Savings time. The mornings were a little brighter. Laura Oliver is a columnist in our local online newspaper - The Talbot Spy. Her Sunday essay spoke of looking for "kickass joy." That seemed like a good idea! This is an acrylic background that I had poured months ago. It fits.
This is a bunch of random thoughts that come and go. I loved this old acrylic painting and liked the way the colors went with this old watercolor sketch (which gets lost in the whole thing!)
More musings about his absence in the mornings. I don't want to forget all those times together, but wonder if they are holding me back..
We had this thing about scones. I would make a batch and we would share one for breakfast on Sunday mornings. I 'bravely' made a batch (the first since his death). The quote and sketch are from the book.
The stink bug appears again! I know that's weird, but it was our thing and they make me smile.
It is the unexpected things that bring tears.
A simple question on a tax form... I guess technically for filing purposes in 2022, I 'am' married, but it's that last time I can check that box.
Many years ago I gave George a ships clock. Resetting it for the time changes was always a big deal. It's now up to me...
This is another painting from years ago that I always liked. It was fun to use it here. The words in the black box came to me one morning. At first I felt guilty for thinking them and then they just seemed so right.
Some days are just gloomy days. I've learned that's OK. It helps to write about it and let it go. This was March 17th -17s are hard for me. George 's birthday was a 17 and he died on the 17th..
I am getting better at turning my sadness into thankfulness. Instead of focusing on the loss, I am looking at what I do have - the wonderful memories to be treasured.
I ask myself a lot of questions about moving on... How do I let go of grief? How much can I let go without losing all the memories? If I don't know what's next, how can I move on? On and on ... then it's time for chocolate!
Not all the little things that bring surprises are bad or bring sadness. (If you don't know Alexa, she/it is an Amazon speaker that responds to voice commands) We often 'talk' in the morning.
These last two images are very personal. I have tried to open my heart to this journal - partly because it has helped me, but also because others have found it a helpful model.
Soon after the previous page it was Easter Sunday. The first of the death anniversaries. George died last year on Easter Sunday. I was able to get out of town with family for a long weekend. A change of scene and supportive family helped ease the pain of the memories that came back forcefully. I went looking for images from that time and I do not see that I journaled until after the 17th, the date anniversary.
I had been dreading two anniversaries! To my surprise, I now welcome them. The first one gave me an opportunity to embrace the sadness of George's death, to mourn, and begin to let some of it go. My 'plan' for the 17th was so thought out... and then so 'us' in what George used to call 'Hofnagle's Law' (when the toast falls to the floor is it always butter side down). Holding tightly to 'the plan' was no longer possible. I congratulated myself in being able to recognize the absurdity and playfulness of our moment together.
This last image was just finished. If you look closely at the painting you can find a lot of fish swimming upstream!
I don't think my journal is finished, but I may put it aside for a bit as I see what's ahead in year #2.
Thanks for being with me through this time!
