A Year in Time

A Year in Time

Somebody asked me yesterday how long it had been since my husband, Ron, had died. We counted and it was 10 months to the day. The first few months after his death were incredibly sad for me. Although I kept working, I spent a lot of my non-working time sitting and in quiet, alone. I knitted, I read, I watched some Acorn and PBS, I read the news, I spent time with my dogs, I just needed to be quiet and really chose not to talk to many people very much about much of anything. 

Slowly I began to reconnect with work, with people. Our first show at Stitches West was incredibly difficult as I was still in the very quietest of times. By the time Maryland Sheep & Wool came, I was better, but still very guarded. In the summer, I finally made a trip by myself away from home. It was hard, plus I got sick, but it was a small turning point. I am no longer sitting in the quiet as I was. Now I am actively seeking activity - still alone - on my own terms, but I can feel that I am ready to start talking to people somewhat more.

I do not know where this is leading, but I know my color brain has come back after a quiet absence. There is riotous activity in my mind's eye and it is coming out bit by bit. 

One thing that I have learned is that I understand the concept of a year of mourning to give oneself the time to come out of the fog of grief and loss. I will not be done with my grief when the third of November rolls around, but I see progress.

I didn't really have yarn photos to attach to this blog post, so I think photos of tiny worlds I see on my walks with the dogs are called for. I like to think about the activities of the tiny critters who live in these worlds. I can imagine them toddling along from one spot to another munching plant material and helping the leaves and pine needles degrade. Maybe there are some fairies and other little beings who live here.

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10 comments

Thanks so much for sharing this. Having been through grief several times myself, I can really relate to that feeling of withdrawal, as well as the little glimmers of fun and hope that peep through.

Alissa Norton

Oh my…..I am so very sorry for your loss….I didn’t know…..caught up in my own life and own grief………..please know that others care and keep yourself in Gods love.

Debbie Domby

It’s been 40 years since my husband passed and although most days are back to their normal routine there are time when at any given moment I just lose it. There is no rhyme or reason what triggers the emotions I am going about my day and bam out of the blue – one time at a four way stop I had to pull off the road when I got through the intersection. I noticed a policeman circled me several times and then when he saw me composing myself and driving off he disappeared – I thought that was sweet of him. So as you can see a year is not enough, our loved ones are just that our loved ones and as long as we live the memories will live with us now, however, I focus more on the gratitude of the memories than I do on the pain of the grief. Thank you for sharing your life stories with us and also for sharing your talents, which for me are becoming family heirlooms. God bless you!

Pamela

Rats…that comment toward the end of my post should read “your yarn has always been one of my favorites.” Maybe this little typo gave you a laugh for the day.

Kathy Cayton

I am so very sorry for your loss. My husband passed 7 years ago this past August. There are days when I think all is good and then there are those days when the tiniest reminder can set me off on a crying spree that seems to go on and on. It is such an entirely different life when you lose your spouse. We each have to make our own way after this loss and there is no wrong way as we’re all different. I am so glad you are now getting out in the public. Your yarn has always been none of my favorites as I really like the colors you select. May God grant you peace down this new road in your life.

Kathy Cayton

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