Tag Archives: Grief

Snapshots of the Now. Waiting.

I have finally reached the point on my journey to acceptance of what happened in July, where I would love to get back to blogging. But I am not ready to write my usual ‘light touch’ nature stories. Nor have I been able to engage in photography like I used to. Or to focus on reading.

I have realized, however, that life is a string of snapshots of the now. I will be attempting to post frequent snapshots of my life ‘now’ as it unfolds for the next few weeks. Maybe just an iPhone shot, a short poem or something similar. Simple. Often mobile. Comments closed.

To get started, I am sharing a few snapshots of my life in the past two weeks.

Waiting for some dolphins to appear on the Labor Day weekend, when Hurricane Irma was still churning far out on the Atlantic.

labor day 2 watching dolphins ud137.jpgAnd they did…playful as ever. Good times. Grief slowly fading into the background.

labor day 2 dolphin ud137And then there was the quiet before the storm. Calm seas. An eerily beautiful seascape on a perfect day. But nobody was enjoying it. The lonely lifeguard shack was waiting to be moved to safety. Like most of us.

beach view before Irma ud137This peaceful scene was in sharp contrast to my frantic search for a flight to get out of here with Dylan. Paradise in Zone A. Mandatory evacuation.

I have crisscrossed the globe, but seldom been happier to finally see a plane at the gate. One of the last planes to leave the airport before it would be closed. Our temporary home would be wherever that plane flew. A ticket to anywhere.AA plane ud137Flashback. The last plane out from Addis Ababa at war. 1990s. A week after husband and son had been evacuated. Essential personnel.

philly studio ud137_edited-1A small studio apartment at a hotel in Philly. Waiting with Dylan and Wolf Blitzer. Wanting to go home. Whatever that might mean. Waiting.

Snapshots of the Now Series (1)

An Amazing Bunch of Friends

When you experience unimaginable heartbreak and sorrow, you need the support of your family. But you also need the support of your friends. When I lost my dad and my husband in less than two weeks in July, both to a massive heart attack, I was grateful and privileged to have both ‘support groups’ close to me.

I was completely lost, but everyone was there to support me. Family came to stay with me, friends traveled huge distances, including from Sweden, to be here. Flowers, baskets, homemade food, cards and hugs arrived for weeks. Blogging friends reached out to me with private messages on email and messages here on my blog. Several of you are still ‘checking on’ me, which I greatly appreciate. Thank you, friends, from the bottom of my heart.

Our neighbors and friends, including those at the dog park were here to support me and Dylan when it mattered most. And that support has continued. What an amazing bunch of friends you all are!

dog park friends 1 ud135_edited-1
Some of our dog park friends

After everyone returned to their daily lives, and our home suddenly felt empty and huge, Dylan has provided a wonderful, comforting presence.

Dylan running ud135He has dragged me out for long walks daily, however bad I have felt, and snuggled next to me every night. He had many daily routines with ‘dad’ and is now training me to perform those tasks. He pulls me into the salt marsh and dog park most nights just before sunset. He enjoys the company of his friends as much I treasure the company of mine.

saki ud135
Saki
Bently and Dylan ud135
Bentley and Dylan
Eli and Deb ud135
Eli in Debbie’s lap when it thunders
Dylan and his friend Kaci ud135_edited-1
Kaci and Dylan
Priya ud135
Priya
Moose ud135
Moose
pepper ud135
Pepper

These guys are an amazing bunch too. While I have not yet gotten back to my usual photography routine, I snapped a picture of Papa Osprey at the Sailing Center late one evening when I happened to carry my camera. Just seeing him around warmed my heart.

papa osprey at sunset ud135And the Mayor was there too, greeting us from the low tide waters right below the sea wall.

great blue heron mayor ud134I do feel the call of my feathered friends and hope to be able to get back to observing them on a regular basis soon. At latest when I return from my family/work/’me-time’ trip in early October. I hope this upcoming trip to Europe will give me new perspectives and valuable experiences. And I intend to share some of them with you.

All, take care of you and your loved ones. Thank you for your encouragement and friendship. I want to end this post with a poem I wrote about a week ago.

ACCEPTANCE

Acceptance of what is

now has a completely new meaning.

When tidal waves of loss

wash over your head

you don’t philosophize

you just want to breathe

for one more minute.