it is what it is

"i sat evaluating myself.

i decided to lie down." ~ Rod McKuen (i think. it's been a while since i read it.)

i've been sewing like crazy on a quilt for Suddenwidow. one for her eldest is finished. one for her youngest is in the works. i break after 9 PM now so i can sew for myself. i've been working on a gift for my two fairy godmothers to take with me to Camp Widow in August to thank them for getting me there. that's what Bunny is working on in the blog photo. i have no fear that they will be able to figure it out from that photo. =0)

sewing/quilting as a profession is not like being an art director at an advertising which i've done. it's not like working the stock room at a department store or being a sales associate, both of which i've done. it's not like being a SPED teacher of EH boys, which i've also done. all those involve constant interaction with people.

sewing/quilting as a profession is closer to plowing a field or bailing hay, both of which i did on my father's farm during my childhood and teenage years. it's closer to working flowers and plants at a nursery which i have done. you're alone a lot of the time in a very solitary pursuit except driving a tractor and planting, growing, and culling flowers and plants is all done outside, or in the greenhouse. but the common thread is you're alone with your thoughts.

i know how to be alone. i'm not afraid of it, but having come from an intensely close bond, one in which, once he retired from his job, we were never apart, my solitude has been difficult to accept. i'd go down to the cove alone sometimes. he'd run to the grocery store, but beyond an hour here or there, we were never, ever apart.

i wonder if not having my own home, having my things in storage, not having a car, and being anxious about food and making sure i don't make my ex angry, might be making it hard for me to move forward at the pace i would have normally.

i haven't been able to tell my story. except here and here is not at all like talking to a person sitting with you. it's not like sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea and chatting with someone with whom you feel safe. so i talk to my daughter.

she told me she thinks my situation with money, or without it, and lack of mobility has prevented me from finding friends. we're working to resolve the car thing. maybe the VA, when i get approved for something, will be enough for a little car for me. maybe i'll get a book published and i can get some breathing space. maybe ..... ah, forget it. i'm just working on trying to figure something out on a wing and a prayer.

my daughter believes that once i get mobile, i can start going to church regularly again and maybe volunteer again like i did before. maybe, maybe. if wishes were horses then beggars could ride. but if we give up on our wishes and hopes and dreams, then we live for nothing. she and i feel that one day, someday, something good will happen to me again. but i told her that we had the Dragon and that's more than we had ever hoped for. we both got teary. he is a constant wish/hope/dream/memory for the both of us. girls and their Dragons. when a bad boy reforms, oh, Lord, there's nothing quite like him. if he is all i get, i have been blessed.

it's been mentioned that i'm sounding stronger. i'm not any stronger, i'm just settling in. the years i have left without him stretch out achingly long. because of how i was raised and then what happened during my first marriage, i have no sense of entitlement that my Dragon and i will be allowed to see each other again. i will not risk challenging God for something that may not be my place to ask for. there is not enough of me left to think that the deepness and profoundness of our love for each other will carry any weight in the afterlife. having said that, i love my Dragon far too much to stop humbly praying for him and i to be together.

working as i do, writing the letters for my allowance for bills, food, etc, have not given me any revelation that i'll be okay. i am simply settling into what life has dictated to me. i carefully fight for little i have left of myself. my Dragon so wanted to see me come back from what life had done to me. i work. i research for help, Medicaid, VA, grief counseling. i make calls. i try. i am swimming upstream and, though i'm not loosing any ground, i'm not making much headway. but i don't think i'm failing at how i am grieving as it has been suggested, it just is what it is.

wishes? i have several.

hopes? i have a few of those.

dreams? i have two. i'd like a small little townhouse with a walled courtyard to release my little dogs into to play. i could paint the walls and get my things back from my ex. it can become mine in a way that an apartment never will.

and two, i'd like to be granted the blessing of being reunited with my Dragon when it is time for me to leave here.

it's good to have dreams. only in our dreams can we be truly safe, love conquer all, and Dragons live forever.

the moon is almost full again. i'm not going to ever apologize for my relationship with the moon. grief be damned. the moon and i will always look at each other.