Meeting in Punta Gorda: a nonet

 

Seeing each other after three years

Three not so easy years, but this

meeting again, time collapsed

There was joy and laughter

and plenty of tears

We have Common

Boundary

Deep ties

Love

Look at You

 

Look at you

 in Canyon De Chelly, 1986

You liked that tree

And asked me to take this picture

It was a trip of discovery 

We went with an idea in mind

Of the places we would visit

And it became so much more

This canyon and Walnut Creek Canyon

And Oak Creek Canyon

And even Sedona, which wasn’t a “thing” at the time

This was a reverse honeymoon

As we didn’t have plans to marry

But then we did four months later

After Scott barely survived a motorcycle accident

Everything about life takes twists and turns

Accidents and recommendations 

Then encountering a tree

And photographing the moment.

Thursday Thoughts

 

It has been one month since Jim made his transition. 

I could not write yesterday as I was totally numb from the election results. I had faith in the American people, so it is hard to accept so many are willing to exchange our democracy over racism and misogyny. I’m not surprised. I was just holding the highest good in my heart.

We are all a bit wiser now, knowing what we now know.

Here is some great healing news…I was able to sleep on my right side the last couple of nights  I’ve had to sleep on my back ever since the accident, but my preferred method is on my side. This has been amazing. Even more amazing is that today I will take my first shower since August 19th! My wound nurse brought waterproof bandages for me and said go for it. I was so over wiping down with cleaning cloths and washing my hair in the sink. The shower is another sign of my progress in healing, and is a game-changer. It brings back another element of normalcy I definitely can use.

I’m glad the rainy weather will be past us after today. I want nice weather for Scott’s visit and for the Saturday event, which will be emotional and wonderful. 

Everything is a step I am taking to re-form my life. I am grateful for all the love and support I have. 

Purpose

 

For many years now, my purpose has been teaching.

Early this year, I had another purpose… To take care of Jim.

This morning I came to the realization that my purpose in life is changing.

Has already changed.

At this point in my healing process, I cannot take care of Jim.

I have to leave that to other people.

I’ve known for a while that my teaching purpose has ended.

I really do not know where I will land.

Right now, my only purpose is to heal myself.

I pray daily for no complications.

It’s so hard facing this on my own.

I heard this line in a song today right when I was thinking about the word purpose:

Every purpose has its time

Time is shifting. My purpose is shifting.

And I have to believe it will serve me well.

Literally Fine…

 

I got a big laugh when I read this.

I don’t think I’ve read anything lately that felt as true as this does.

I cannot think about the past, all the things that have happened, and how much I missed having a summer.

I’m forced to think about the future as I’m beginning to plan my retirement.

But I’d rather be doing anything else.

And then there’s the present… Right now.

I cannot move through my life like I used to.

Everything takes extra thought, planning, will I have the energy?

It’s a huge balancing act, these three time frames.

I’m literally fine… Until I start thinking about one of them.

🫨🫨🫨

Cancun, Mexico

Inspired by "Pisac, Peru" by David Whyte

October 1987. I was 32, Jim was 45

 I remember the mornings I'd walk the surf,

while you drank coffee on the deck and watched

the sun rise over the Caribbean, then we'd saunter

over to the breakfast buffet that would hold us

until dinnertime.

I remember our resort, the restaurants and large

gray lizards on the lawn, the coolness of our room,

no news affecting our being, so much so the U.S. economy

crashed while we were gone and we had no idea.

I remember the now-called "Riviera Maya" as miles

of jungle, where the residents would flag the road to 

their homes with plastic grocery bags.

I remember discovering a local beach, Chemuyil, a place 

with a tiki bar where a woman had a  coatimundi on a leash,

and huts where food was served, meals

of fresh caught fish, rice, beans, steamed jicama, 

homemade tortillas and salsa. Our many afternoons at 

Chemuyil included watching a boy band from England

recording their music video among the palm trees,

snorkeling the reefs, drinking Mexican beer, and baptizing 

myself in the water the year I had a cancer diagnosis.

 

I remember yesterday after you got your chest X-ray

and you were home and back in bed, I said

This isn't getting on a plane and flying to Mexico,

but this is our life now, and as long as we're together,

I'm fine.

 

And I meant it like I've never meant anything else,

deep in my heart and soul.

 

This ain't no beach vacation.

 

But it is my one life

and I will live it.

 

 

We are just waves in the ocean. Nothing is permanent.

41. Weekends

 #66Challenge

I cannot believe for so many years -- even last year--I spent a great deal of my time on the weekends working on stuff for school.

Now I find it impossible.

I find even when I want to do something creative, I just cannot give the time.

Even now, at this moment, as I'm finally writing all these things during spring break, I'm mostly doing it to keep up with the project I committed to and hadn't kept up.

Because when the weekend comes, I don't want to write about school.

Not even sure I want to be doing this now, except I'm getting a strange thrill out of seeing how things have been piecing together. I know this is important.

And I'm almost done. Which helps.