For the first few months after my husband’s death, I could think of nothing other than the loss of him. It invaded both my waking and my sleeping and was intensified by the bone deep exhaustion that permeated every cell of my body. But gradually, over the months, I started to notice that there began to be room for other things. I began to be able to eat with friends and stay still long enough to observe the fog slowly retreating up the hills in the mornings. It’s not that I hadn’t seen the color of the world in the early months of grieving, it’s that the color and beauty were merely observed rather than taken in. Somewhere around the seventh month since the fall that took the essence of him away, which was also the fifth month after his death, I began to notice that every once in awhile I would feel a flash of joy. I didn’t quite know what to do with that. Should I feel guilty that I was beginning to feel comfortable in the world again or be grateful for it?
The theme I use, Manifest, is now retired, and so I find that I am unable to use the most recent tools to write a post (such as Block Editor). So, an announcement:
New Theme, New Look Coming Soon
I may even experiment with different themes over the next several weeks, so hang on.
P.S. ~I would REALLY appreciate your feedback: what you like, what you don’t like, suggestions concerning what themes you use and why you like them. I’m doing much more Photography than I did in the past, so that also comes into play in terms of choosing themes THANKS! ~Hannah
I know I said I would just post photos for at least a week, but I want to tell you the history of this kettle.
The predecessor to this kettle was given to me by husband about 15 years ago. I had fallen in love with it through a store window up in Mendocino, California while I was visiting my mom. Let me remind you that my husband was the cook of the family, so it was his kitchen. He didn’t want to replace our large Revere Ware kettle with anything else because the Revere kettle could hold enough water to make enough drip coffee for guests all in one go. And there was nothing wrong with it. I couldn’t argue with that, but eventually the little plastic bit that enabled you to lift the small lid and pour, broke, as plastic bits are prone to do. Revere no longer made those extra large kettles, so he agreed to get me one of these wonderful pure copper English kettles for my birthday.
We used that one happily for about 12 years. But alas, we had originally bought the design that could only be used on a gas stove. Our retirement community only has electric stoves, so we needed a replacement. But in the intervening years, the price for these kettles had shot up a whopping 300%. That is not a typo. The original copper works factory that had been making these kettles for over 100 years found it too expensive to continue to operate and had closed down. These kettles had gone overnight from being ubiquitous in England and passed down from mother to daughter, to trendy and rare. Only the quantity that remained in the warehouse existed. I told him how much they now cost. He paled a little, but then said, “Sweet Love, I know how much you have loved using this kind of kettle. No matter the price, I will still get you a new one for your birthday. He did, and I think of him every morning as I fill the pot with water and turn on the electric stove.
The past week has been exhausting. In a mostly good way, but exhausting none the less. Observing Holy Week, celebrating Passover with my Jewish older daughter, her husband and my grandkids, and sadly, going through both holidays for the first time after my husband’s death. I still can’t get used to the singular pronoun of “my” grandkids for instance, rather than “our” grandkids. Each time I find myself erasing the word our and replacing it with the word my it is an additional reminder of loss.
I need to rest, and I have decided for the next week at least, to focus just on my photography rather than both my writing and my photography. I find both activities healing, but in trying to post five times a week, I find that I have time and energy for little else. I have loved getting immersed again in both and trying to re hone my skills in both. But the apartment needs to be cleaned, I rather desperately need to shop to replace my glacially slow 6 year old laptop, and above all, I need sleep. Massive amounts of it, actually. Perhaps as I put up a photo some words might occur to me, but I make no promises. So I hope you enjoy the process as I experiment more with my camera and start to retrain my eye.
I am fortunate that some of our family is Jewish and some of our family is Christian. If you have been celebrating Easter today, Happy Easter, and if you are in the midst of celebrating Passover, Chag Sameach. If you celebrate neither, I hope you have had a lovely weekend.