New Rhythms

Meal prep and planning, bed times and morning alarms take on new meaning, new importance as I find myself back in an 8-to-5, full-time job. I make art and jewelry in the evenings, on the weekend. I try to get walks and photography in on my lunch hour, extra-long walks on the weekend. I’m still me with a little more structure, organization, and income.

Coming home to an empty house those first few nights was pretty grim, though. I can’t chat with Bryan about my day, with all his questions and exuberant curiosity. There’s a quiet that’s a little unsettling. I turn to music or old, familiar movies to fill the space with voices other than my own. I’m still trying to get use to what it means to be in this house without my person. I’m not rattling around eating stale wedding cake in an old lace gown, I promise. But I’d be lying if I said this place wasn’t filled with shadows and memories that come out all the time.

My job is interesting, a bit overwhelming, but very good. I like being around people again. I think I might have been getting perilously close to old-widow-cat-lady weird. Greeting people and chatting with co-workers helps sand off the awkward edges (I hope!) Grief is still ever-present–sometimes a dull-ache in the background, sometimes a sharp stab, and sometimes a heavy, black blanket–threaded into these newest rhythms of being.

[If you get anything extra out of my writing, you’re welcome to leave a tip in my virtual tip jar: https://venmo.com/u/Rebecca-Lubbers-1 or if you want to see some of the paintings I’ve done recently you can check them out here: https://feryldesigns.etsy.com]