For more days in row since you have gone I move through this space we shared, alone. All that’s left, The changed space where I have moved Loose of time, weary of hours, days, Months left less. For more days in a row than I thought possible I move through this space we shared, past our time Into my own.
What do I do? I paint. Not as much As I would like but a surprise to me more than I did. More than I can sell, hah! Which is all Right. Enough goes on to please others, To please me. And now, that is becoming enough, or perhaps having had so much, I now learn to need less.
Reading journals from years ago How much I have written Ever the same. The same laments and worries, What do i do, softened only the By the love We held for each other. That has Not changed and I can not hide behind You any longer.
What I do know. I was married For over two decades, a good life With my Dear. That these five years since he died Have been a break to my soul, Just barely endured. We considered each other’s joy, Kept always front and center, This I know. And I know, reversed, I’d want his life To go on good. Now I agree to accept the Same for me.
I have spent so much time wondering What am I doing with my life, where Am I going Even with Jack, I had my doubts, never About life with him, but about when Would I find Me, I guess, the not only the wife of Jack But me, Linda, who and what am I. Do I know?
Am I alone? Yes, a lot but not all the time. I see others here and there, stay in touch In many ways. Am I lonely? Yes, here and there in a day, But not all the time. For now, these moments Are mine alone, Mine to carry. Friends do and will lend Support, thankful for this. An awareness I wear gratefully.
With you I was strong and independent, Heard it better said: inter-dependent. A wonderful state, One I held dearly close, as the rings On my finger. In the overwhelming, Dislocated, awful aftermath, Made a pact: learn to live alone, to live With myself. I hope for this time coming, From the memories Of our love, your strength, to learn To live not just with myself alone but Myself with joy.
It is not that I can’t face this alone, That is part of this treatment, and it’s not like I Have much choice. Usually, Jack, at sunset I Bid you goodnight. Not this evening, No, my Dear, This evening I am angry at you For leaving me. I’ll make it and I So miss you.
Dinner with friends, lazed about, A quiet day. Thoughts about sleep, not getting enough. Perhaps should allow the wakefulness Of wee hours, that ancestors used, for Study, contemplation, calm. I’m awake then anyway, so Why not. Hardest may be going To bed earlier.
Between childhood and marriage I was self-sufficient and independent. Now I’m not. The change into dependency On Jack, and he on I, was for sure A fine thing In our marriage. So much so, that Loss has been devastating. Now I Seek another healing.
Soft rainy morning strengthening Into heavy rains made for a pleasant day To enjoy painting. Body feels no difference, it is only two days, In mind feel more acceptance but it is Only two days. Yet I am willing to allow gratitude For both and hope, that the first stays, The second grows.
Started today. Now meet my newest, Nearest friends: sovaldi and ribavarin. My best interest Is their only concern but the path I walk With them may well be rockier than I will want. Still, if I’m cleared, then good. I do this With only memories of support. I do this On my own.
The meds sit on the shelf waiting, Waiting for me to come to terms with This next go. My thoughts this time? Hopeful, Apprehensive, what will be the side effects, Will it work. And sad that two friends in particular, who I Have counted on, felt I’ve been there for, as they so Have for me, Are not now. Their lives have now significant others, Which always trumps anything else, as it should and You, my Dear,
Are not here. And this time when I am hurting. No one will hold me. Beyond that, have no idea, really What to expect.
Except, maybe starting this has started The realization I can do this alone, however much I wish otherwise.
Dinner with my good neighbors, Remind myself I have good friends who give What they can, Remind myself, all of them do, especially The ones I have been most close with these Last, long years Are gone back into their own lives going onward. Of course they are. My problem? My life is not Going onward anywhere.
Sleep alludes, shifting off to other pillows Leaving me wondering, circling brain shifting Through my fogs Looking for answers. Answers. There are none, None that come easily and I am too often too Tired to see. And, is there anything to see? I am afraid to look into my own heart And love it.
Another day alone, I am getting tired of alone For so long I mistook time with friends as Not being alone. It wasn’t that, it was not being alone For the moment, then, more than not I’m alone again. I am alone again, that is a fact, another is Need to learn to like my self, what I, and I alone, Make of it.
Tonight the storms that have marched Across the eastern seaboard and further Rests softly here On this outpost of the eastern shore. A thin white blanket lies under cloud cover, Enough to reflect The light of the hidden moon into a quiet, Low gray light that covers the flat fields And peeps through The tall inky stands of pines. I walk about Feeling how the wind whushes from the north Breathing cold gusts Across my face, while a faraway shush Echoes in my ears. Coming on midnight is ever A magical time But with the bite of ice, now seems older And harsher. I would say even our dogs Have this awareness, But, perhaps not so. They relish the crisp Crunch of snow regardless of The hour of day.
The creek is frozen and the paths icy, The fire in the house feels wonderful. In the studio I paint the snowy fields around this home, Then enjoy dinner, the cozy feeling of being Comfortably snowed in.
The Studio at Line's End Farm is where I paint and try to find some joy again, and some equilibrium, not simple these days. One weblog records thoughts, ideas, methods and mixtures, palettes, observations, actually anything that intrigues me concerning my painting and working in the studio. Another observes only the horse in paintings that I find influential. The last are done for my sanity. All are my opinion only, open to other suggestions.