Thirty Paintings-Day 5

The thing that gets me up is the thought of that first cup of coffee in the morning.  Pretty ordinary but with many memories attached to the act.  I so enjoy it and feel revived like no other drink in the rest of my day.  I am also attached to my mug.  I like the feel of it in my hands.  I am a tactile person always checking how something feels and that includes mugs, bowls, and glasses.

It reminds me the many times we made pots of coffee for each other.  How many times did I wake to being handed a mug of coffee by Richard.  Or how I would set up the pot for him at night for the next morning because he had to get up at a ghastly 2 AM for work.  Having the the pot ready for him to just hit the switch seemed like the best thing to do, seeing as I was not getting up with him.  Almost to the end, while he could still swallow, I gave him a mug of coffee in the morning.  Now it is coffee alone...

                                                               Grey Morning
                                                                oil, 6"x6"

               

Thirty Paintings Challenge-Day 3

My garden, for a few reasons,  has not flourished this summer.  The temperatures just never seemed to get hot enough for the tomatoes.  Also the tomatoes were Richard's project every year.  He babied them, picked their suckers, watered, and tied them up off the ground.  He was out there checking them a few times a day.  Gave them what they needed in terms of natural , thank you chickens, fertilizer from which he would make a very stinky tea and feed them.  Then when he started to harvest those beauties he would make the best tomato salad from tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, wine vinegar, and Italian herbs.  It was the best.  One could soak Italian bread into the juice and it was amazing.

I have only planted them and did a once over sucker picking.  I have green tomatoes, still...even though they are the same type we always planted.  One's heart needs to be in to the gardening process,  I believe and my heart was not.  Being out in the yard is very hard with out him as everything is.  So I picked these green tomatoes and painted them.  They in some ways are a visual reminder of his absence in the garden this year as well.  I guess there is always fried green tomatoes.

                                                                Summer Green
                                                                  oil, 8"x10"
                                                                  

One year...

This man...this man who I shared life with for fifty years, who I loved, was my lover, fought with, laughed with, danced with, had five children with, eight grandchildren with, and everything else with died one year ago today. I have written over the year extensively about my grief, sadness, hopelessness via Facebook and you for the most part have read and held me up...thank you. I am numb this morning. Oddly quiet and thoughtful but numb. A strange state of disbelief and calm. The tears are right at the ready. I find it hard to believe 365 days have past with out him, that I have cried for 365 days, sometimes for hours at end, curled up on the floor in the fetal position. He was my life I have discovered...there is much I have discovered about me over the year but the most important is I know  he was who I was meant to be with. That is it really...I loved him, love him now, and will continue to love him...I miss him still as much today as ever and look for ward to that day at the end of my life, with my hands outstretched to him and I see him again, and he will throw his

arms around me and I will settle once again...I had no idea.

Another Day, Another Marker...Without Him

"maybe some people just aren't meant to be in our lives forever. Maybe some people are just passing through...maybe they get it all done faster than the rest of us. It's like some people just come through our lives to bring us something- a gift, a blessing, a lesson we need to learn and that's why they are here. They taught you something. I'll bet...about life, and giving and caring so much about someone...that was their gift to you. They gave you the gift and they were free to move on...they were special souls...you will have that gift forever."
-Anonymous

Richard had to leave home to go to inpatient hospice six months ago this morning as his symptoms and comfort could no longer be controlled at home. That morning is a poignant one for me...listening to 'The End of Suffering' together, sitting quietly, holding hands at the table as we digested this turn of events in our lives, a last hug, and last words of tenderness..."don't loose me". I am grateful for my life with Richard, all of it, everything, every single thing taught me something invaluable, the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. He has left me with gifts immeasurable up to that very last moment...and beyond. Yes, I am a keeper of time as I examine every minute of our life together, picking it up, looking it over and gently put it back in place feeling nothing but love and compassion for the man I spent almost all my life with. I will love you forever, Richard...

The End of Suffering