Wednesday, August 24, 2011 — The Spaces In Between Get Longer ......

Yes, no matter how often I think about what I'd like to share here or how often I plan to work on an entry at a given time each day ........ time moves on and immediate needs win out over writing. I truly enjoy creating these entries. I love to share my thoughts, taking comfort in knowing there are friends and family out there checking in, and I really appreciate their doing so.

However, I have decided that I will soon bring this blog to an end. I will make just two more entries after this one and retire my writing to a private, personal journal. This month marks the one year anniversary of Skip's death so I think the timing is appropriate. I began writing the day Skip entered the ICU at Sutter Medical Center in Santa Rosa after being airlifted from Fort Bragg Hospital, suffering from a Strep infection gone sepsis. The receiving doctors gave us very little hope for survival from this complete shutdown of the patient's organs. We gathered in Santa Rosa for the fight ahead and Skip eventually made a remarkable recovery before his sudden death. If you are interested, you can find that whole roller coaster story earlier in this blog.

Skip died August 11, 2010 and I decided to continue the blog to let family and friends know how I was coping with this unfathomable loss. It became a very therapeutic avenue for me to pursue. A few readers may believe that I was overly candid in my discussions of grief, mourning and coping with new everyday necessities, but this is obviously the tack that came most naturally to me so that's the way it has gone.

Over this year I've learned so much about loss, about myself and about what community means to a person in my position and state of mind. I am a gregarious human being at heart even though I have definite need for "time alone" to gather my wits and leave room for contemplation. Where I live has had a great deal to do with my learning process. Just about everyone I know believes we live here in a kind of paradise. I subscribe to this outlook. I prefer to be engaged with life rather fully and I find many kindred spirits here. If I feel myself succumbing to loneliness, I need only stop at Headlands Coffee House on the way home from my swim or whatever. People gather there to be with others and also to be alone among others. It is a kind of magnet for touching bases. I am so grateful for its existence. This is a coffee house that sometimes resembles an Algonquin table and sometimes provides amazing "people watching," which you all know I enjoy. Close, good friends come through here as well as casual acquaintances and complete strangers. Everything I read tells me that Headlands provides just that kind of connection that humans require, especially during periods like this year has been for me. Besides that, nobody offers a Greek Salad to compare with theirs.

My trip down from the mountains with two dogs in the car and my kayak on the top was sprinkled with stops to answer my cell or call out regarding my progress or "non-progress." It was bumper to bumper from Echo Lake to Placerville. (Sunday afternoon). By the time I reached Dixon and more traffic, it was apparent that I couldn't arrive in time to meet the family at Jenny and Mike's. That was sad because I so want to see Leah one more time before she leaves for Oberlin. I finally reached Marina Bay at 7:45. I worked my way up 101 the next morning and when I reached the sculptor's house on 128 I heaved a big sigh of relief, feeling that I was entering that magical Mendocino homeland territory. Many things to see along that wondrous rout so full of contrasts. Stopped in Booneville for gas and watched two matching Dachhunds with identical harness/jackets on. How can you keep from smiling at a sight like that? I stopped at Gowans apple orchard to walk my dogs. Met some lovely people including a lady who lives in Fort Bragg who seemed like she would be fun to know. The veluptuous hills through the Anderson Valley are out of this world and the abundant sprinkling of wineries along the road never cease to make changes on their properties which are worth noticing. From the four story water tank at one to the new tasting room at another, I find endless things to take note of.

Next comes the amazing Navarro forest area. There is no way to describe the wonder of that part of the ride. One minute the redwoods rise in unison and darken all the multitude of green shades to be seen in the ground covering flora. Then, suddenly, a piercing shaft of blazing yellow finds its way through the branches to focus a sudden "high key" spotlight on some special little area of ferns and greenery in this magical garden. One surprise after another before you eventually realize that the river is deepening and the estuary has come into sight. Next comes the last turn and rise over the hill and the Pacific Ocean is there before you in all its sparkling glory. I never become tired of that view. It fills me to the brim. The rest of the way home is full of familiar sights that always deserve updating until ......there I am, on the way up the gentle rise to my driveway and my own, personal little paradise.

It took me a few days to get back into the rhythm on the coast which included the inevitable dealing with the accumulated email and the large bundle of snail mail I picked up from the Post Office on the way home. I finally finished painting the second large section of floor finishing in the classroom at PTA and will begin the last main area today. That will leave only the narrower pathways around the edges before it will finally be completed within a week or two. Today is special because Lolli is bringing Ron back to Fort Bragg and we've scheduled a Pacific Textile Arts board meeting for tonight to be followed by dinner with our dear friend and colleague. There'll be much catching up to do before she returns in a week to be with her mother in Seattle. Oh, how we miss her.

And so goes my life. Full of productive and joyful events. Yet I'm still trying to learn to live with this "aloneness." It's a steep learning curve but I'm a survivor and I'm definitely making progress. No small thanks to all of you who check in and make my life so worth living. I'll be back two more times to wind up this trip report before I embark on the private, personal journal that I envision for the future.