Happy new year!

Welcome to 2022!

 

The past few days have brought shootings and fires and ice storms and blizzards to ring out the Dumpster fire that was 2021. I am grateful that everyone I know made it through these devastating events safely, if not necessarily whole. (I know many who are without power, water or gas.)

When I started this blog, I planned to write a post at least once a month, on the “monthiversary” of Vic's death, to let people know how I was doing. I know many worry about my well-being—thank you—and I want to allay their concerns. I also thought I might write an additional post in between with whatever topic struck me at the time.

Well, I missed both of those milestones this month. The mid-December post was waylaid by ... whatever. (How can I remember that far back?) And the post on the 27th was hijacked by Verizon, a two-day 10-hour ordeal that nevertheless had a totally positive outcome and was worth every moment I spent on hold and getting transferred around.

Over the course of the month, I was pondering a post for folks who don't know what to say to a grieving person, a post about the many ups I experienced this month (from Susie, Donita, JB, Amy, Chandra, Alice, Seth, Julie, Amy [yes, there are two Amys], Anne, Annie, Kristi and Paul, Nancy, Cathy, Larry and Paulette, and Michelle, to name just a few), even a post about how grateful I am that everyone who knew about Vic changed their address books and sent Christmas cards addressed just to me. (I twinge every time I get a piece of mail addressed to both of us—especially if the organization has been notified of Vic's death.)

As separate posts, each of those topics would be long, but imagine if I tried to write all three topics plus a “how I'm doing” in one post? Yowza, what a long, boring post that would be!

So instead, I'm just going to throw in some random thoughts and slap up few joyful pictures at the end.

• “The holidays” were not worse for me than other times of the year. A lot of people appended “... especially at this time of year” to their statements of support. But holidays didn't really have special meaning for us. <Sappy Patty alert!> Every day was a holiday with Vic. (OK, not every day—every couple has a few rainy days.) I can't count the number of times I have said this—even on this very blog: a wedding is a day; a marriage is every day. And Vic showed up every day. So it's that everyday presence that I miss the most, and it doesn't matter whether it's Christmas or Tuesday.
• Also, I've been channeling Barry Manilow since Thanksgiving. His song “It's Just Another New Year's Eve” is the best song to play for any day that you feel sad for any reason:
  
  Don't look so sad
  It's not so bad, you know
  It's just another night
  That's all it is
  It's not the first
  It's not the worst, you know
  We've come through all the rest
  We'll get through this
  
  
• That said, the amount of support I received this month—from the widest variety of (and often unexpected) people imaginable, in the widest variety of forms—was astounding, and I'm sure that made the season easier to bear. A picture of an 11-year-old under the baby blanket I made for him. A package of sweets from The New Phantom. Editing services for The Scallion. An original piece of artwork from an artist friend. A baby Christmas tree—a real spruce tree!—complete with decorations. A well-timed “You are normal” email. Homemade treats. Store-bought treats. Homemade treats for Bella. Store-bought treats for Bella. (We are not picky.) A bell with angel wings. An exquisite quilled hummingbird ornament, a gorgeous glass hummingbird and an adorable hummingbird wind chime. The “can you help me with a quick favor?” friends. And one of the most beautiful tributes to Vic I've ever read.
• That said, my random experiences of sadness this month included driving home from events (driving to an event doesn't bother me), going to the Butterfly Pavilion without Vic and the song “Merry Christmas, Darling.”
• Speaking of music, I listen to it a lot. In the car by myself, on my walk with Bella, in the shower, while I'm working to help me focus. One day on my walk with Bella, I started out sad for whatever reason. (How can I remember that far back?) Barely a minute in, a groovy version of “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” by Ray Charles came up on my Christmas Walking playlist, and I just started dancing. I mean, walking, but also dancing. (It's a thing. Look it up.) I'm sure anyone watching was laughing. Hard. Later, “Elf's Lament” by Barenaked Ladies (feat. Michael Bublé) popped up, and I sang along. Loudly. While I walk-danced. Music, for me, is healing. I can be sad while listening to music—I'll listen to a break-up song on repeat all day long if I need a good cry—but put a peppy, jazzy, fun, catchy or danceable song on and I am transported to another world, even if only for 3 minutes and 39 seconds.
  
• I took a few more steps away from Vic this month. I made the macaroni and cheese Vic always made me for Christmas. I cut the long hair that he loved. I disconnected the home phone we had for 37 years. I took him off of the cell phone plan. I got rid of the packages on DirecTV that he watched—including the channel that aired the Rockies games, which broke my heart just a little. I discontinued the DVD Netflix plan. (Yes. We still got DVDs from Netflix.) I took his name off all our memberships when I renewed them. These were painful but necessary steps.

So now it's 2022. I couldn't imagine a worse year than 2019, when I lost my dad, or 2020, when I lost my mom and we had a global pandemic, but 2021 definitely has its place in the pantheon of abysmal years. (Ooh, someone broke out the thesaurus!)

What's in store for this year? In the words of the great Sam Baldwin (aka Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle):

I’m gonna get out of bed every morning … breathe in and out all day long. Then after a while, I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out. And then after a while, I won’t have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.

I don't make new year's resolutions, but my intention (a word I hear a lot in my morning meditations) is to just take every day (humming)bird by (humming)bird (apologies to Anne Lamott) and make the best of whatever life throws at me. Bring it on, 2022! I choose joy! 2021 will not defeat me!

As usual, I end the post photographically, and these are just a few (OK, a lot of) pictures that have brought me joy in the past few months.

Not long after he passed away, I gave one of Vic's telescopes to my niece and nephew. Within days, they had it set up and were looking at things far, far away.

Xan and Will looking at ... a neighbor, maybe?

Madi looking at ... Jupiter? Venus? Something cool, for sure.

Halloween is almost as festive in our neighborhood as Christmas. I posted the pirate house, as I call it, in October, but this bicycle built for two always made me giggle when I walked by.

Vic received a number of quilts over the years to help him during his various medical ups and downs, and my dad had a quilt top my grandma made finished into a full quilt for me. This year, I bought a quilt rack to display them all. Thanks to Cara, Chris and Alice for Vic's quilts. 💕

Hey! I never posted a picture of the finished square shower! Even though it was Vic's shower and it made me sad that he never even got to see it let alone use it, it does bring me joy because it reminds me of Vic.

One day, on my way home from lunch with a friend in Westminster, I went through Broomfield, so I thought I'd take a brief detour by the house where we got married. When I saw it, I was immediately transported back to 1988, when a (fairly) young woman married a (much older, if you talked to my mom) man under the bluest Colorado sky.

2021

1988

The whole backyard from the neighbor's house

Couldn't resist including the cheesy “kiss the bride” shot!

And finally, a few of the things mentioned above.

A boy and his blanket

A package from The New Phantom

The New Phantom also included treats for Bella

The New Phantom even knows what box The OG Phantom used!

Some inspirational artwork:

© Julie Leidel, The Bungalow Craft

 My new baby tree, decorated and lit:

 Butterflies and ... other things ... at night:

... from other guests? I'm pretty sure I'm gonna stay six feet away from this guy!
(Just kidding—he [or she] is harmless to humans.)

 My angel bell:

“Those we love don't go away. They walk beside us every day.”

A few more hummingbirds for my growing collection:

“The little hummingbird reminds us to savor the sweetness in every moment.
Their delicate grace and beauty make us realize the miracles in life.
Hummingbirds symbolize joy and inspire us to open our hearts.”

And Bella. Always Bella.

Happy new year, everyone!