VIEW FROM MY CASTLE WINDOWS

My life has always been a life of transparency; there is no point in hiding what people will eventually ferret out anyway – so I just “put it out there”, and let the chips fall where they will.

I was up-front and blatantly honest with Bob from the get-go – I figured, it’s best I tell him, rather than let him find out through the local grapevine gossip-mongers. I was pretty much squeaky-clean because I lived a clean life and lifestyle: my parents and siblings … no: they were the jaded spokes in the gossip wheel. Chances were, given the way gossip burns through small hamlet communities, Bob probably knew more about the embellished version of my family than I did.

And he loved me anyway.

What I share privately with close friends, and what I post publicly on my Blog – and on FB, is common knowledge anyway. Because I live a transparent life and lifestyle. The windows of my home are always open … and so is the window to my life. Pretending to be something other than what I am, is ludicrous. Pretending to be perfect, with a perfect family living a perfect life is ridiculous. With what I share, I want to show that life isn’t perfect – life is real. I share my life in real-time in the real world for real people. I don’t hide my feelings. I don’t hide my thoughts, or my opinions. I don’t hide my pain, my wounds, or my scars. And I am open about my struggles, my wars (personal, or with family members), and solo lobo journey through my 1-year/1 month/25 day/6 hr. 45 minute (421 days) widowhood; I loudly tout my victories, and give exuberant praise to Yeshua for walking with me through every moment of my life. Fake people are going to be offended and try to manipulate me into a corner, where they expect me to sit down and shut up: not gonna happen. This is MY life -and I WILL share whatever I want to share about my life. My life belongs TO ME, and no one – on either side of the family tree – gets to dictate to me, one thing about it. I try always to be considerate when I mention others who have passed through my life; but I don’t lie. Ever. And some of those people were so awful to Bob & I that they don’t deserve any consideration at all when their name comes up in my posts: if they are offended by what they read, they have the option to grow up and change the way things are between us. Otherwise, I will STILL BE real, living in the real world, talking real truths about my real life – and their real part in … or out ... of it – if and when they are a real part of the real narrative. I think that best benefits real people looking for real solutions to real life situations, circumstances, and issues. I don’t back down, I don’t step back; and I don’t pooh-pooh, or candy-coat life.

I am not a mean Queen, but I am the unapologetic Queen of my life – and I was the beloved Queen of Bob’s life. People will just have to get on board and behave – or move along. Bob’s legacy deserves better; and I deserve better. I intend to reign in my life, with a firm hand on my life; no one else gets to decide for me how I look, speak, act, think, or behave. ONLY ME. Even Bob didn’t try to remake me: he knew what he was getting when he joined his life to mine – and together we built a life of transparency based on honesty, respect, and honor for each other; always.

Bob was a strong man; he wanted a strong mate for life. It was fate at first sight. We were in love from first glance. We suited each other in all other areas too. There were no complaints … except from the peon sector, who had no authority over our life at all, and has no authority over my new life now. While there was a place for them (in-laws, siblings, children, grandchildren, friends) in our life, they were not more important than {US}, and they are not more important in MY life than ME: Bob and I reigned in our created world: now, I reign alone; and I am rebuilding a new world. It is up to them, individually, if they want to be part of my life – there is room for them if they choose to stand with me … but I will no longer chase after them. I will not cater to their demands.

Today - last year – was 23-degrees outside, and snowy. We never get a lot of snow here, but when we do, it always comes late ... like when the daffodils, crocuses, hyacinths and tulips are daring to show their heads; and trees are starting to show signs of new growth sprouting.

Today, last year. 2019

Today, this year, it is a balmy 50-degrees outdoors, and feels like Spring on the air. I noticed daffodils, crocuses, and tulips coming up in my flowerbeds and flowerpots the other day - I'm happy to see that the yellow Parrot tulips I bought last March, because they were the color and the flowers Bob liked, survived and I will get to enjoy them again this year :-D

This is life in my small corner of the PNW; unsettled in many ways, on many levels – but beauty is being birthed ;-)

My humble inheritance – the ‘castle’, with a fresh coat of paint applied 9-1/2 months ago; Bob wanted me to keep it, and I am sure he is happy that I am continuing on as we planned here. This picture was taken June 25^th, 2017 after we had moved in and remodeled the inside, put a new roof on it, and was working on the property to make it what we wanted in a home. We didn’t know then, that THAT would be what would cost Bob his life following a jealous and unfounded complaint. Bob did good with this provision … but I’d rather have Bob. I’d rather have Bob with me.

Last night’s love song ... wind chimes dancing in the gentle wind.

I bought these Miniature Daffodils (quite a bit taller than the ones I planted 2 years ago) and variegated-leaf Cyclamen yesterday; not sure yet where they will be placed on the property here.

 

Tiny sized tete-a-tete miniature Daffodils (these daffodils stay very low to the ground) coming up among the Hens-n-chicks sedum; both the narcissus and sedum proliferates profusely – each will need to be thinned out eventually. As soon as there is a reasonable break in the weather, I need to pick up the storm litter debris.

More little tete a tete Daffodils coming up in this front flowerbed, poking through the dormant Delphiniums and dead-leaf Shasta daisies: I can only see 1 from this angle, but there are several coming up in among the leaves of the Shasta daisies, facing street-side. Small, naturalizing crocuses are starting to show among the cabbage-leaf-Begonias.

 

Dark purple larger Crocuses, coming up I this front flowerbed; nestle among the dead-leaf Shasta daisies and Foxgloves. The primroses have all but disappeared completely. I never have luck with primroses – they are supposed to come back every year, but mine never do. More smaller naturalizing crocuses are popping up among the cabbage-leaf Begonias in this bed also.

Yellow Parrot Tulips are pushing up among the dead-leaf Foxgloves in these containers on the bottom front porch steps. The yellow parrots have a peach blush to their petals – very becoming. I bought these flowers last year because Bob liked parrot tulips; I never want his memory to fade. As long as these flowers come back, it never will.

I have requested the grandchildren plant foxgloves when they place my cremains next to Bob’s in our family cemetery plot block – I planted crocuses there in the Fall and it pains my heart that I cannot visit the cemetery to see if they ever popped up this Spring: there was a landslide a few weeks ago, that has closed the stretch of highway I need to get to Eden Valley and by the time it is reopened, the blossoming would have passed. And, I will not know if they came up or not.

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/destination-locations_20.html)

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-calendar-is-full.html)

The Yellow Parrot Tulips and fuchsia Foxgloves will be very pretty on these front porch steps. And the flowers resemble our side-by-side relationship: Bob liked the color yellow, and the parrot tulips … I like the color purple, and the foxglove flower. Very complimentary and compatible ;-)

I always did my best to provide a comfortable home for my husband that he could take pride in. At first, he didn’t understand my need for pretties in the yards; or my need to have a garden … but after I made them happen … he got into the swing of things and made sure I had them every Spring: he LIKED the colorful displays of Spring flowerbeds, and he liked the meals I made for him with my prolific vegetable garden hauls – so he faithfully rototilled the veggie plots; which started out small in Cathlamet, and grew to quite a substantial plot on Merritt Drive, just off West Side highway. And eventually, I even got the chickens I wanted ;-) The chickens are a thing of the past now, but it was a love gesture I appreciated the years I had them.

Here, on these recent humble castle grounds, I want to do all I can to make sure the flowerbeds bloom brightly, and the garden boxes Bob built for me to give me a steady supply of what I need to carry me through the Fall/Winter months – what the grocery stores are asking for what I can grow more healthily and cheaply, is scandalous. I will continue to garden as long as I am physically able to: I enjoy puttering around, getting my hands dirty, and letting the calming serenity of my gardens sooth my tired soul and overtaxed mind.

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2017/07/racing-father-time.html & https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2017/07/day-by-day.html)

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/07/super-busy-day.html).

I have also gotten back to observing the Shabbat; for a long time, after becoming a widow, I just couldn’t. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t particularly sad or anything – I just had a mental block about the wine. It was irrational; but I have been told by other widows and widowers, that irrationality walks hand-in-hand with widowhood: it’s an PTSD effect. Widows and widowers have suffered a traumatic event that caused severe distress, that affected ALL of our being.

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/07/soloing-on-shabbat.html)

Benefits of wine on the female human body (https://www.health.com/nutrition/6-reasons-why-a-little-glass-of-wine-each-day-may-do-you-good). I'm keeping my wine days strictly on Shabbat days ... and only 4 ozs/night. Granny is not going to become a widowed lush - that road is a dead-end.

Rainbow heart spot. Awesome ;-)

Twin hearts! Amazing morph :-D

With Valentine’s Day quickly approaching, social media is bursting at the seams with love-theme e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. I used to do that too. But for me, starting with Valentine’s Day 2019, it’s not so anticipated anymore. In fact, as far as I personally am concerned, it’s not looked forward to at all. Last Valentine’s Day I was placing my husband’s cremains into his Cremains box.

No, Valentine’s Day no longer holds happy memories for me. No more morning kisses; no more morning delight. No more lovey-dovey Valentine’s card exchanges. No more chocolate candy boxes produced with pomp and belly laughs. No more special Suppers out. No more Bob in my life. The celebration of love means something totally different to me now – the grief is not so raw this year … but the loss of my Babe’s love in my life, is just as acute. Bob was my great love. My great passion. My great purpose. ALL that is gone now.

The king of my heart ain’t commin’ back. His eternal residency lies beyond the clouds now.

The morning's gray clouds briefly parted ... it didn’t last long, but it was nice while it did :-D

Surviving Grief is serious business; it literally means the difference between life and death for the survivor. Sorrow strikes all of us at some point in time, in our lives. The Grim Reaper makes a claim, Grief accompanies him; and sorrow follows. Inevitably, and indefinitely. That is the irony of our human existence, and no one escapes it: they can prolong it with pills, oils/creams, injections, CPR techniques, proactive and prolonged hospitalization … but no one ever escapes the Grim Reaper’s claim – they are just merely buying time, and time eventually wraps up: he always collects. Grief always makes house calls. And sorrow settles in for a lifetime. We only escape any of the inevitable when we, ourselves, depart this world. We are all living out our lives on this planet in an unidentified finite period of time; that’s why it’s imperative that we live each minute of every day like it’s the last one we will ever experience. It could be.

That’s why it is vital to make peace with your Creator; and get your castle in order. Bob and I understood that concept for the last 37 years of his life on this earth.

But sorrow …

For this queen missing her king, coming to terms with sorrow seems to be harder than grappling with the Grim Reaper, and his side-kick, Grief.

And today’s wind-chimed-rain-soaked-view is the pronounced view from my Castle windows today.

Shabbat Shalom.