thursday afternoon
Once again I need to clean something big (my studio room), but of course before I do that I must write something in my journal first. Must put just a little more time between me and the job. I did good yesterday with cleaning up/decluttering/organizing Hazel's old room - the room I've started to call The Guest Room now. I filled 4 big black bags with garbage - lots of styrofoam from packing boxes, a big old wool coat that was fantastically dirty and a lot of other random garbage. This morning Dave and I went shopping so I could get more clear plastic tubs to store yarn. I want to sort it all by weight and get it out of my room. My room has nearly filled up with yarn and weaving stuff except for 2 spots - where I sit to work on my laptop and where I do art in my journal. Alison asked me if she could use my metal working studio while she is here and I said sure, I'd love that. But now I have to get that area clean and accessible. And maybe after the guests leave I might want to do something there for myself. I faintly hear the stones and silver calling my name a bit but there is no way I or anyone else can work there till all the yarn is put away.
****
I think I'm in a state of mourning for Bill. That's my basic state of mind all the time anymore. There are so many things about Candy's Bill that remind me of Dave. He was a gardening guy, hunter, loved trees and the woods, easy going. Just thinking about it my heart starts to imagine how this could be me, how easy it is to lose someone, how horrible it is to lose someone. The last time I lost a family member was 12 years ago. Mom and dad were very old - it was time for them (even past time if you would have asked them) - Dad was 97 and Mom was 100. But before that we lost John. That was a shock and much harder to get over. We thought he was being well taken care of in the hospital and he would recover from the pneumonia. Suddenly we find he's gone. I had seen him only about a half hour before that and he was falling asleep then after taking a sleeping pill. I think the sleeping pill killed him - he slept so deeply he couldn't cough to clear his throat of phlegm. I regret so much going home that night - the regret resides forever in a black corner of my heart. He might have lived on if I had stayed and watched over him. It is a small comfort that he always said he was ready to go. 40 years as a quadriplegic is pretty long and hard.
Anyway.
Here are 2 carvings of Bill's that I took pictures of when I was there last. The top one was maybe his very first. Candy and I kidded him that it needed a bird and from then on there was always a bird in every one of his carvings. I'm thinking that his first bird was a cardinal so the bottom pic probably was his second carving. That would be Bill's sense of humor to have the buck look so pointedly at the bird he put in to please us.
I'm choosing to be comforted by these carvings done by a man who is gone now. He can live on a bit in this way.
I could write more about longing and regret, grief and the meaning of life but it's getting late in the afternoon and I need to get started cleaning up on this room!
****
I think I'm in a state of mourning for Bill. That's my basic state of mind all the time anymore. There are so many things about Candy's Bill that remind me of Dave. He was a gardening guy, hunter, loved trees and the woods, easy going. Just thinking about it my heart starts to imagine how this could be me, how easy it is to lose someone, how horrible it is to lose someone. The last time I lost a family member was 12 years ago. Mom and dad were very old - it was time for them (even past time if you would have asked them) - Dad was 97 and Mom was 100. But before that we lost John. That was a shock and much harder to get over. We thought he was being well taken care of in the hospital and he would recover from the pneumonia. Suddenly we find he's gone. I had seen him only about a half hour before that and he was falling asleep then after taking a sleeping pill. I think the sleeping pill killed him - he slept so deeply he couldn't cough to clear his throat of phlegm. I regret so much going home that night - the regret resides forever in a black corner of my heart. He might have lived on if I had stayed and watched over him. It is a small comfort that he always said he was ready to go. 40 years as a quadriplegic is pretty long and hard.
Anyway.
Here are 2 carvings of Bill's that I took pictures of when I was there last. The top one was maybe his very first. Candy and I kidded him that it needed a bird and from then on there was always a bird in every one of his carvings. I'm thinking that his first bird was a cardinal so the bottom pic probably was his second carving. That would be Bill's sense of humor to have the buck look so pointedly at the bird he put in to please us.
I'm choosing to be comforted by these carvings done by a man who is gone now. He can live on a bit in this way.
I could write more about longing and regret, grief and the meaning of life but it's getting late in the afternoon and I need to get started cleaning up on this room!