Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.


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To Walk Down the Road You must First Be Aware of The Speed Limit

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I can barely see the reduction of things I must pack. This weekend there was a big neighbourhood garage sale so I leaped to the opportunity to relieve this house of things.

I had decided to create a living room setting for all the things I put there were of the living room left overs.

The white wicker chair.

The white wicker stool.

The white wooden ladder.

The white ceramic plate and white painted river rocks.

The stand up lamp and matching clip on.

The t.v., the dvd player.

Two ironing boards, with an iron on top.

Hot pink chair with 60’s pillows.

My sisters cabinet.

White baskets.

One very ugly end table, this did not attract any attention.

All the whites were loaded up into a small care by a woman I think I may become friends with in the future. She invited me to sit by the lake at her place about an hour outside of town. She spoke of mystical properties of soft edges river rocks. I told her that yes I knew of such powers but for me its the finding that gives me great pleasure. I am in transition and this phase means I have now reached a place where I am letting things go.

When you believe that purpose leads us to avenues and our choosing certain routes is part of our learning paths that sense of urgency for the most part is removed. I don’t mean to say that I sit waiting for life to come to my front door. Every day I try and understand the moment I am in. Saturday it brought two people here to look at the house. They did not purchase it but we had a personal discussion of the events that we had lived in terms of caring for loved ones and the family structure. So was it a failed viewing of a house or was it a needed side trip of emotional value. I chose the latter.

My siblings have an abundance of financial values so the sale of mom’s house is urgent to them for they just want to get on and possibly give their share to their kids. For me, well I do need the money but perhaps more so I need to cherish the moments of leaving mom’s house. I feel that as long as her ashes are here with me that we are still finding ways to say goodbye.

I know the right family will look at the house and see themselves build a life here within these walls. It’s well priced for a family but not for someone that just wants to flip it.

To conclude today I would leave on these points,

take the time you need! Grieving is a process of emotional inventory and filing in a way. As an artist my inventory comes from the hundreds of drawings I created and still create of my path. the filing is my choosing which gets transferred into a painting or sculpture or poem.

These past two weeks I have let go of so many of B’s clothing items. My only compensation was that he is in every sculpture and painting and drawing he created. He Is in every monumental sculpture that graces the city streets. But I still keep things like his pen that I found in his jacket.

When someone has been a part of your every day and breathe for 32 or more years or more, speed is not a word that suits at this time.

 


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No Mads

My head goes off to NOMADES. They travel with all their belongings on the back of a pony. Together they can erect an Urt [ I think its called] then boil water and make mint tea. There they all enjoy it together.

After trying to pack up this house I wonder of all the things I just can’t let go of. An artist needs to create constantly and have inventory.

I have a large place where I can store inventory but I can’t bring myself to live there without its force, B.

Every day now I have been bringing bags of stuff to the second hand store. Then I bring some things to my new room.

Still there is so much of B’s inventory downstairs. To look after another artist’s memory is both an honour and hard.

Every day I do more and more and more. eventually I will be done. One way or another.