Saturday,October 23, 2010S — Learning to cope

First, before I forget it, I want to assure all the people who have asked, that my lacerated upper arm that catipulted into the outside water faucet, is healing beautifully. I'm able to use all but one of the machines at Curves and swimming the crawl no longer hurts it a bit. Thanks to the good services of the ER staff at our hospital in Fort Bragg. I must admit to having been a bit frightened when it continued to hurt for so long, but I'm told that the hurting was simply par for the course and that I was very lucky not to have severed a major artery. And now I'm barely aware of it when I move my arm.

I'm sitting in my little family room off of our kitchen because the Wi Fi reaches there from the studio. The laptop is on a small TV table and a certain little white dog from Yelapa is cuddled up next to me begging to be petted. He is the same little guy who keeps me company at night. I wake up at dawn with his back pressing against mine, seeking warmth through the covers. He and our almost fifteen year old Latte are constant companions around the house and when I walk over to my Henhouse studio, they are right along side of me. Latte never followed me from room to room so diligently before Skip died. This tells me that the dogs are sensitive to and mourning our loss in their own ways.

I have much to learn. I don't really know the ins and outs of either our water or electrical systems. I haven't taken a lesson in driving the tractor mower yet. Larkin has promised to teach me. Certain things that were usually Skip's territory are things I just have to practice not being lazy about, such as carrying out the garbage and the compost and putting the cans out on Monday night. I never have been a fan of replacing light globes. Maybe I can work it to do such things when one of my tall offsprings is here for a visit. It's amazing how many things one shares with a partner without thinking about it. Even answering the ring of the phone was something we kind of alternately volunteered for on a "fairness" basis.

Sharing opinions about the books we were reading is also something I greatly miss. I just finished The Apothecary's Daughter. Now I've migrated to another grief oriented activity. Several people have passed on books to calm my aching heart. They all seem to have something here and there that hits the mark for me. But I'm now half way through a book called "Healing After Loss" which has definitely helped me to put everything into perspective. Timing is everything. I was evidently ready for this book, which features short quotes from the likes of Wendell Berry to Alice Walker. The author of the book, Martha Hickman, who lost a daughter to a horseback riding accident at age sixteen, adds some form of personal comment and elaboration after each quote. She writes well and is insightful without being too authoritative. Just right for my current moment. Grief is like a moving target. One minute I feel I'm pacing myself well between attending to business and giving myself time for contemplation. Then I suddenly feel I'm in a daze of disbelief. One thing is for sure. This is a universal condition. That's definitely one thing the reading has driven home to me. So I try to find a balance between sober thinking and having a good laugh with a friend. (Or by myself) Laughing brings endorphins and you all know I love endorphins. Off for a Saturday swim shortly.

Thanks so much to those of you who are still writing emails to me and commenting on the blog. I love you too, Serena. Hope you'll come to the coast one of these days. Thanks to friends who do the things you do. I love you all and I'm so grateful to you for helping me to keep my life on track.