Putting pen to paper

Does anybody journal?

Do you journal daily?

Do you find that it helps you? 

Is it something you'd recommend?

Did you find that it was hard to get started?

Did it/does it help you get "unstuck?"

What are the benefits?

Any draw backs?

Year two

He died in the heart of winter.

The season that he hated most of all.

It's one of the first things I thought of, one of the first thing I felt bad about.

I thought it a cruel joke that he would die in the middle of winter, 

with the ice and cold and the wind chasing after him as he passed from this world.

It feels like it was just yesterday and also like it has been forever since I saw him.

Grief changes a persons very identity, Nothing is the same.

I am:

sad, forgetful, happy, lonesome, relieved, ruined, crazy, normal, old, fragile, strong, and fine. I cry, I laugh, I am depressed and I am funny.

I grocery shop, pay bills, do my laundry and I sleep alone.

How is this possible???

How is it possible to be all of these things at the same time??

My children and grandchildren save me daily. My love for them is immeasurable.

I miss him so much and some days are still so damn hard.

The world is weird and ugly and sometimes I am afraid.

I wish he was still here cuz then everything would feel alright.

I felt safe when he was here. I felt loved and cared for.

***************

I am slowly learning how to love and care for myself.

I go to Physical Therapy 2 times a week. 

My therapist is helping me to relearn the mind body connection. 

She is teaching me how to let go of the pain in my body that I have carried for two years.

I take Epsom salt baths to help me release tension and relax.

I've joined Weight Watchers to count points everyday and I still drink too much wine.

I take a nap daily and I have no guilt over this. My body still needs the rest.

I miss married life, I miss intimacy, I miss him.

His voice, his smell, his arms around me.... his kiss.

The dictionary doesn't have the words to describe this level of  loneliness.

I am fine and I am wrecked. I know love and loss.

Widowhood sucks. I'd give ANYTHING to go back to normal.

I'm tired of being lonely. I miss him.

Love, Lolly

Angels and snowstorms

 It is 21 degrees outside with a wind chill that makes it really feel like 8,

and I am sitting in my house barefoot, wearing a T-shirt and jammie pants,

staring out the front window at a panoramic view of snow and ice.

I am sweating and hot from digging my car out of a huge snowdrift.

Yesterday it snowed a foot in my town. It snowed for 12 hours, maybe more.

Schools were closed, businesses were closed, everything was cancelled.

I waited until this morning to dig out my car and I had to do it early 

because the temperature will be dropping like a stone today, down into

 negative digits, with 40 mph wind gusts. This is supposed to last for 3 days.

Winter has finally arrived!

I love the coziness of a snowstorm, being inside my house, hunkered down on the couch with my dog, a book, a blanket. 

I am safe and warm and I am privileged enough that I don't have to go to work or the store. 

I don't even have to shovel my driveway because my brother in law will plow it for me later today.

My furnace is running and my house is cleaned (I did it yesterday during the storm).

My kitchen cupboards are stocked as are my fridge and freezer. 

My car has a full tank of gas. The water pipes are insulated.

My husband taught me well. He was always prepared for stuff like weather emergency's.

He showed me how to turn the water off so the pipes don't freeze, how to check the outside vent of the furnace to make sure it wasn't blocked by snow and ice  and how to hook up the generator (instructions which I no longer remember).

The snowblower needed a new belt 3 years ago, but he never got around to replacing it so that sits in the garage idle, useless, collecting dust.

Last year,  my neighbor, whose name I did not know, started snowblowing my sidewalks without me even asking him. And he's doing it this year too. 

When I finally got up the courage to ask him his name, he replied 

 "My name is Angel."

The symbolism was not lost on me. 

**********

It's taken me a longtime to make my way back to looking for gratitude.

And it started with a snowstorm and a man named Angel.

Thanks for reading,

Love, Lolly