Friday, January 3, 2014

New Year's Resolution

New Orleans, alone, but New Orleans, magic city where voodoo lives under live oak trees will be my home in seven weeks  for three months, no three months in the states since I hope to attend writers’ conferences in St. Louis and Florida, as well as the Tennessee Williams in March. Traveling alone without Kirt or even my dogs, oh my, I don’t relish either, but I’ve done it before making friends easily, most people are sweet and have a story to tell; I’ll be fine.
Kirt and I travelled the states showing dogs in a forty foot bus, well, not as much of the states as we wanted, but from Illinois as far south as Mississippi across the road from the Gulf of Mexico, where at night we sat on a pier a hundred feet out in the water with six Bullmastiffs, enjoying the colorful casino lights on a foggy night.  
As the pain lessens, I’m beginning to enjoy a memory without balling my eyes out. Emotional pain tires you out like crazy. Being happy seems a chore. I could sit on my porch enjoying the beauty until I die, with my honey, but alone, no, I want to go to see to do. With the New Year my resolution is to resonate with passion for the adventure my life has always been, in honor of my beloved, he’s here; I feel him now.
The road to acceptance is a rocky trek through the valley of the shadow of death. I am thankful for Daily Strength Widow Support Group on line. Sharing the experience ameliorated it, when nothing else made it better.

My life feels like a truce after a long battle, too much devastation to be happy, but glad the torture’s over. So three months of the charms of the south will set well with me. No doubt there’ll be more crying, but I want to find a path for an interesting, productive life. Statistically the surviving spouse of long term couples dies in a year, so I’m going to make it a good one. 

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