Ninth

Nine years ago I got to marry the best man I’ve ever known. It was a surprise, small wedding at the back of a restaurant in Portland, Oregon. We had a small group of attendees, which suited my introversion well. We made our own vows. Our officiant told the story of Naomi and Ruth, reminding us that love is a decision and a commitment and we lived it.

I miss my husband–the man who would pull me close and say in a low voice “mine.”

Today is a good day because we had that day and so many more afterward. Today is a hard day because he’s not here with me the way I want him to be.

If you see me today and my nose is runny, my eyes a little puffy, my cheeks blotchy, just know that all off the feelings are close to the surface.

Imagining

Have you ever made a vision board? Poster board, cut out pictures and text, embellishments, glue sticks–the whole bit? Recently I’ve done one; I liked doing it. It gave me the chance to reflect on moving forward through this year. Imagining possibilities, planning finished projects, and creating new ways of being have been really encouraging, and it’s not fraught with the guilt-laden shoulding of New Year’s resolutions.

We’re already two months through 2024 and in some ways it seems to be flying and other times (the -4 degree stint for example) seem to be interminable. What even is time? Imagining and planning are essential components to moving forward. The doing is even more important. I want to be clear, though, that all the hubbub around planning and doing isn’t some camouflage to grief.

Periodically I have text exchanges with one of my dear cousins who is wise, clever, creative, fun, and she is also no stranger to immense grief. She reminded me that grief doesn’t end. Grief changes. And stagnation is the worst part of it. That’s why movement forward is so important. In that movement, we can learn and grow and evolve. Our grief doesn’t end, but it changes as we grow and change. I appreciate her wisdom and see it reflected in my experiences this last year and I can be certain these truths will remain as I proceed through the rest of this year.

Imagining futures that do not yet exist is what propels humanity and on a small scale it is what will propel me, too. What are you imagining for the rest of this year? What ideas and plans are you hatching? How will you keep moving forward?

[Virtual tip jar: https://venmo.com/u/Rebecca-Lubbers-1]