And I'm not referring to Basketball tournaments, although sadly both my teams are out of the running. Over the past handful of years, March has become it's own rite of passage I must endure each year. Too many memories good and bad are bottled up within a few short weeks. The mind and body both remember. A fog descents and I become disoriented in a maze of grief over my lost soulmate and our life together.
As hard as it is for me to say this, each year becomes exponentially less devastating. My present more grounded and real. The past a beautiful shadowed sketch.
Progress can be felt in all directions. And while I don't miss Chuck any less, my definition of home keeps being rewritten without him. It's a kin to moving away from your home town. Eventually, your new local becomes home - you. When I visit Pittsburgh, I am immersed in all the familiarity, love and joy for my first home base. Yet even as I rejoice in being back, I know that I don't fit there any longer. And it's always a heartbreaking reminder of the paths we walk and choices/dreams we needed to leave behind. That is a fraction of what March is for me.
This March contained a road trip, wedding, family time, friends, work, volunteering and a new adventure to start. There was more evidence of Chuck's spirit walking beside me as I journeyed through this month than I've seen and felt in a long time. Including a glorious rainbow as we had dinner on his birthday. And concrete evidence that I'm not that only one who aches from his missing presence in their lives.
No longer do I feel like I've run a marathon to get through these late winter days. Nor the euphoria for having survived them. I'm just back to my "normal" levels of missing Chuck. And the un-grantable wish that there was an alternate ending to our story.
Back in the PNW today. I'll post more about my trip to AZ over the next few days. It was a much needed getaway.
What I didn't count on was how familiar everything would feel. Chuck & I honeymooned in Northern Arizona at the Grand Canyon and Sedona during March. The terrain, weather, pace and drives kept triggering memories of our travels together. Overall comforting, adding depth and texture to my trip and personal journey.
Homeward bound this morning, we flew over the Grand Canyon. And this was my breaking point. Seeing the Grand Canyon without Chuck seemed so wrong that the tears instantly spilled over from deep within. I sobbed for that newly married couple full of hope and dreams that never had a chance to take root. And I cried for my Grandmother whose last trip was with my parents to my wedding and the Grand Canyon. The tears in her eyes as she gazed upon the beauty of the landscape is a memory my father will never forget. Surprisingly, we lost her later that year to cancer.
Today, I watered the canyon with tears for the two souls I miss dearly.
Three years ago today was the last time I heard you say I love you. You said it with such urgency and force like your life depended upon me hearing it, believing it ... remembering it. As if you knew that one I Love You needed to last across my lifetime. And it echos throughout the hills and valleys of my whole being.
This day you left, you shared with me the most sacred gift of all. The unworldly bliss you experienced upon being released from your earthly ties. While I didn't understand it at the time, those moments have reassured me during my darkest hours that you were at peace and deeply anchored my faith.
Walking forward without you breaks my heart over and over again.
Fortunately, I've learned that I feel you with me when I'm present. My happiest and most peaceful moments are when you shine through the strongest. I've also made peace with the knowledge that the loss of you and watching your decline are wounds that will never fully heal. And that's how it is suppose to be. It's the flip side of loving so deeply.
My love Chuck - I'm forever grateful for sharing my life, heart and soul with you. You are the soulmate I wished for on every falling star.
Excited to report that my almost 3 year wait for a P.Patch garden spot is finally coming to an end. Received an email this week that spots are available. There are over 68 area in Seattle that are designated as public gardening spaces that can be rented out on an annual basis. I could have had a garden probably 2+ years ago, except that I was waiting for the P Patch in the park complex across the street from my condo to open up. If I'm going to invest so much of my free spring/summer time, I wanted to be in walking distance from home.
Saturday morning, I walked over to check the gardens out. A large portion of the garden raises food for local food banks that I'm sure I'll be lending a hand with. I'm thrilled to tackle a true garden and have the opportunity to turn my thumb a shade greener. Been missing the lack of yard, and this will give me my own little patch of dirt to play and create in.
Right now, I'm pondering what portion of the space I want to utilize for an herb garden, cut flower bed and vegetables. This weekend I've done lot of reading up on our growing season, crop rotations, garden design ideas and plant's preferences. Head is spinning with the possibilities. But it's invigorating.
Keep you posted along the way as project garden gets underway.
Bound to happen sooner rather than later. The calendar page turned into another March.
Time stands still for no one. The sands keep shifting under our feet. And honestly I've been passionately engaged with work, taking in the Olympic spirit, catching the early moments of spring, celebrating the birth of a lovely new little cousin, planning for making bold steps forward... that I haven't allowed myself the space to feel the loss that so permeates this time of year for me.
Last night, Chuck's absence was amplified throughout my home. Barely could hear myself think through the noise. My soul was begging to let my cries be unleashed. Only a handful of quiet tears escaped.
The spirit is willful. In both directions. Awoke this morning in a fabulous mood, ready to tackle my latest project armed with a good night sleep and dark mocha. Going through my ritual start of the workday in the lunchroom, I glanced upon a huge box of magazines. And instead of glimpsing the celebrity couple scandals or cooking magazines, the photograph staring back at me momentarily stopped my heart. The National Geographic, with a man climbing up the trunk of a Redwood tree.
And once again I'm back in the last week of Chuck's life. It's exactly 3 years ago today when Chuck gently asked me if we should purchase a plot. Bravely, I softly question and listen until we get down to his true heart's desire for his remains to be returned to the earth, scattered in the Redwood Forrest. The site of our first vacation together. A place that forever ago captured his imagination and soul. A last wish that I eventually fulfilled.
Exhale ...
I soldiered on and shoved myself hard back to 2010 and the challenges at hand. Until the work day wound down around 8 pm. Then the armor started to wear thin. Talking over deadlines, I reminded my colleague that I was out of town on next thursday & friday. As the ribbing started, I simply stated that next Thursday is the 3rd anniversary of Chuck's passing. Silence. Space, freedom and time is necessary for me to move through that day and into another year without him. I won't have anything left for clients, projects, colleagues that day. Truly, my absence will be a gift to us all.
Finally, my heart overthrew my head. And I sobbed all the way home. My mind kept spinning round this phenomenal 6 hour talk we had that last monday he was here. One of those magical conversations you usually have when you are first getting to know each other and everything is perfumed with wonder. We dreamed about our new home together, about our hopes, what we'd love each other's life to become, what we loved about each other. I woke up that next morning so grateful to have that remembrance of who we were deep down, the experience of our souls touching. And at the same time I was so incredibly heartbroken with the knowledge that I was going to lose it too.
Months and months after Chuck left this world, I'd have given anything to have one more night like that one with him. Just to know how he was, say a million more times I love you, reassure each other, know each other, comfort each other. Now, 3 years later, I wonder what is left or even more important to say than I love you & I miss you everyday.
This song accompanied me on the way home tonight. Fit my mood perfectly.
To my lost love...
The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin
And you my love are gone
My room seems wrong
The bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
And you my love are gone
So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door
I'll never say I'll never love
But I don't say a lot of things
And you my love are gone
So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door
Seeing the Olympic Cauldron was enchanting, inspiring and beautiful. It's the symbol of greatness.
Friday's picture session at the Cauldron was soaking wet. A battle was waged to keep the raindrops off the lens. I was on the losing end most of the time. Although I got a few eerily beautiful images out of it.
On Saturday, I braved the lines again to make it back to the viewing platform while Constance & Diana walked the waterfront. Made a few friends in line, including a few neighbors from Kent. The line moved relatively fast. Plus at the top, the heat thrown from the flames helped take some of the afternoon chill away.
This is what I came to Vancouver to see. Beautiful and mesmerizing.
POSTCARDS from the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Cauldron
This post is dedicated to the art witnessed in Vancouver this weekend. The public art displayed around Vancouver for the Olympics was diverse and beautiful. And I'm sure I only witnessed a small portion of it.
Working in the large format printing business - I'm hyper aware of advertising and environmental graphics. I think some of the display work for the Olympics was inventive, bold and very well done. I've captured some of my favorites.
POSTCARDS from Vancouver Artists
Fabric totems
One in the Eagle series
Trees of Children's prayer wheels
Baker with a sense of humor
POSTCARDS from the Vancouver's Olympic graphic blitz
As you can image, National Pride was on full display in Vancouver this past weekend. It was joyous to see people so excited for their athletes. Electricity was in the air. People watching was a high sport on Saturday. Here's a few faces in the crowd that caught my eye.
Usage of blog imagery is restricted without the permission of blog writer. Unedited blog entries can be referenced/posted on other sites if blog writer is fully credited. For permission requests, contact jnetlw@gmail.com.