A Change

Jim died 6 months ago today.  That's like yesterday.

Watching the DNC tonight and wishing Jim was here with me so we could talk about it. But that is not unusual.

Everyday something happens, or a letter arrives, or I see someone and I wish  I could talk about it with Jim.
If anyone wants to know what grief feels like - for me this is it - its missing Jim. And facing the sometimes crushing reality of knowing he is not coming back home. I have cried until I am dry


For these 6 months I have written about my new widowhood here on this blog - - but now I have decided to move that writing to a new blog - -  Me, the Widow

Because writing about these new days helps me I will continue to write - but I won't be posting it out.
You are welcome to stop by if you are interested.

Why do I do it?
Because, believe it or not, although grief sits on my shoulders all the time, that's not all that's in my life.
Everything is changed for me and I am working to rebuild my life. I will talk about that in this place.

I am very grateful to have storytelling and my art work to help me back to work. This month I have at work in a group show at the Katzen Rotunda, American University. This is a group of former AU alumni who meet together, a group I have belonged to for seven years. The best thing about it is being with people I have known for years - - friends and the comfort of familarity is incredibly important to someone like me right now.

On the storytelling front  - I have been invited as one of the storytellers for a special storytelling concert here next week-end. Thanks to good advice from a wise woman, storyteller  Elizabeth Ellis, I chose the story carefully to protect myself from any emotional pot holes. Taping two TV shows most weeks along with producing Tales in the Village keeps me on my toes. And, I am telling a school night for middle school students the end of the month.

Things came together in such a remarkable way that I decided to go the National Storytelling Festival in October with a small group of close friends. I have to admit that the real draw for me this year is the chance to see the marvelous Jeanne Robertson in person on Thursday night. I don't know what to expect. It could be a hard trip filled with memories of the wonderful times Jim and I had there together. Or --- it could be a celebration of those very same warm and wonderful days.

Handling the "stuff" to keep the house in shape which always fell to Jim now falls on me. There is plenty to do in this seventy year old house. Would you believe that the copper pipes in the basement have now developed little green pin holes that seep water? So, in two weeks the plumber will be here to replace them with new PVC pipes before they flood the basement. Believe me I don't feel kindly toward those pipes.

You get the picture.