Sunday, November 17, 2024

That afternoon on Russian Ridge

 long grass was green so it 
was spring time
on the western slope of Russian Ridge when
Jim stood over me to shield my eyes
from the slanting afternoon sun
never before did I wake 
to such piercing joy

Friday, August 9, 2024

Forward?

 Querida mia, months since my last check in. For so long I was at bottom, bereft and devastated, wanted nothing but you. It was horrifically painful to attempt life without you and it takes so long. I struggle still, waves of flooding grief, but begin to inch forward incrementally. I never will be whole without you. But I am changed. Finding my way alone. We had been twain, the two of us, together, one half of the other, together a whole. Now I stand alone, not as fragile as I was first without you. But a different person at sea in what comes next. At least, it feels that way now. Please don’t let me slide back into that despair that sent me groveling in grief.

Saturday, March 23, 2024

another grievous loss

 Grief morphs and so do I. In some ways I am closer to you, further in other ways. But cognizant always of the void of you. Without your civilizing presence I am more judgmental and annoying yet more kitty loving (kitties for the Win!). Our Pat died, devastating. Remember our Scotland/NorwayIceland cruise in 2018? As we were at dinner one night, I was chatting away, then you nudged me and pointed at Pat who was crying silently over her dinner plate. Wish we could have helped her more.


Thursday, May 4, 2023

What I Would Do Differently

 What I would do differently

Your world would become mine,
Truth only is perception, you would be my truth,
Reserving just enough of mine to get us by
in a place dispassionate
I would be your passion
You would be mine
Would hold you dear and close
And be your partisan always
Would embrace your truth
Your body, your being, You.
Is it too late?

Wednesday, March 8, 2023

 I still have no idea how I’m going to live long term without you. Next week I’m driving up to Point Reyes/Tomales Bay. Renting a cottage on the bay in Marshall. Finally will strew your ashes in the bay where we shared so much love. It’s the right thing to do for us. 

 It’s been really hard lately. Don’t know why. I am both depressed and labile. truth is I never imagined living without you and I don’t much want to. I am stuck here without you, in a fairly barren place with almost no good friends, our kind of friends, nearby. I never thought what this would be like. It’s fairly grim. But I am housed, fed, and still travel some. Health is compromised but I’m working on being better. Our last ten years were so awful, we lost sight of one another and failed love from time to time. 

Thursday, February 9, 2023

No Words

 I’ve always been comfortable with words — reading them, using them, writing them, speaking them. Lord knows it’s rare when I have nothing to say.


I guess I thought, for a while, I would find the woulds to express the profound wound of Jim’s death and horrendous loss of his partnership. That hasn’t happened. Now I think it may never happen.

Last year I was in Panama for Jim’s first death anniversary. I marked it but was distracted. This year I am wholly present and the devastation has only begun. Still looking for the words.