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.
10 comments
It’s nice to know you are moving forward, that is progress, good for you. I’ve decided that one is never done grieving, it’s been 22 years since our daughter passed, and I still grieve. It’s just different. The grief is there, just compartmentalized with so many other things. It comes to the forefront when a song, a smell, some memory, something that reminds me of her; I smile, sometimes a happy smile, sometimes a sad one. I then go on with daily life.
Your photos are wonderful and the commentary so beautiful.
Take Care
Oh Babs, I had no idea… Ive been so wrapped up in my own little hole of grief that I’ve barely been online and today after receiving an email from you I dashed over to try computer and started reading about the coming events and saw some yarns and patterns I felt ready to try… Then I came upon this piece… I’ve been down his road with a dear friend and have watched her ebb and flow through her own loss and while Ive lost both of my parents and an unborn child and have a child who is once again actively in the throws of her drug addiction after many years clean; loosing one’s spouse is a very different and far more jarring thing I would image. I Cannot say i know how you feel but I Can say I felt and found wisdom in your decision to sit in quiet, to walk in the woods and to refrain from being too involved with people. I think allowing one’s self the time they need to just sit with all that is, and the best way to HONOR your loss and your future needs. I offer up Love Light, Comfort and Grace in the hopes that listening to your inner wisdom has served you well. xox
My sincere condolences! My husband passed away 3 years ago this coming December. After one year, I moved to a high desert area in rural AZ. I am just starting to make new friends here. This is ( at least for me) such a slow process .
I started to knit cause it was not compatible with crying… It is indeed a journey. Hugs…
Such a sweet and honest post. I wish you some smiles along the rest of your journey.
I so very much appreciated and was touched by your blog post. I’m a soon to be new client, and just fell upon this post this evening… I’m 55 and lost my dad suddenly 19 months ago. With 4 growing children, there wasn’t much time For quietness (except for middle of the night knitting), along with being a photographer. But my knitting, specifically my love for color, has often been my salve and salvation. I also wanted to post because I just came upon a wonderful non-denominational (spiritual), yet also somewhat quantum mechanics (science) oriented book, that is all about the 12 archangels guiding us toward healing and growth through color. If interested, the name of the book is “Lessons from the 12 Archangels”, and is written by Belinda Womack, a woman who had been a biologist for many years, then had a different calling in life. For me, the book is resonating on many levels. Many times I’ve instinctively felt color is my healing modality. And now I am starting to understand why. I hope this post doesn’t offend anyone, in case some see it as too religious. It’s only meant to offer a sense of connection, in this mysterious, beautiful world we live in. Thank you also for the beauty you bring into this world with your exquisite yarns! I believe the work you do helps heal the planet! Take Good Care. ??