New Year

So we have a new year and a new decade, a new direction for our economy too- or so the analysts predict. There's a new reality for our family and for us, as individuals. I think of resolutions.

My grief has been often accompanied by a constantly heavy heart, an emotionally weighty thing that must be toted from place to place, with no escaping it. Well, truth be told, that weight isn't just emotional. It's chemical. It's more potential energy waiting to be burned, waiting right there between my chin and my knees. Meanwhile, my jeans don't fit and I won't buy new ones because I don't think I deserve them.

So if anyone needs a resolution, it's me. I need to set a fresh course, line up my sight with points ahead, ones of my own choosing. I need a strategy for living through the next two years and making it a time of growth instead of decay. What would David have me do? If David has an enhanced perspective now (I believe he does) what would he advise me to do with my new year?

One piece of grieving advice that is consistent is that we should continue to talk to the one who has died. So while we were all at the beach, and David seemed so close, I asked him, "What should I do with myself now, Son? How am I going to get through living all these years ahead with this huge whole in my life and heart? " Then I just opened my mind for what David would say. He said, "Take care of yourself, Mom. Do what's best for you. Don't let sadness pull you down. Keep living and enjoying life and don't worry, I'll be around. I'll check on you from time to time, like always. We'll be together again before you know it."

"Okay, Son. I will. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

While we were all together at the beach house I would sit on the sofa and close my eyes and listen to a game at the table, a conversation, or the sweet, high-pitched squeals and coos of the baby. I watched Mark and Stephen working in the kitchen, preparing a feast of fresh calamari, rockfish, and trout. It was great.

This morning I walked with my friend Jan. She's another one whom I can be away from for many months, and then when we talk again it is as if we were never apart.

I am so fortunate.

Dear God, thank you for so many blessings. Help me to better care for myself. Help me to not be too sad, but to enjoy life to its fullest, one moment at a time. Amen xxoo