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.

COLOR MY WORLD … With Fingernail Polish ;-)

One thing I’ve learned about being a widow, is that there will always be ‘first’s’. Everyone always talks about the ‘firsts of first year’ … but there are also the firsts of the second year, the firsts of the third year, the firsts of the fourth year, ect. I am of the persuasion that the ‘firsts’ n.e.v.e.r.e.n.d.

They just never end.

Everytime a widow does something new without her husband – it’s ‘a first’.

Everytime a widow does something new, that she’s never done before – it’s ‘a first’.

The first’s just never end.

It was another hell day with Toyota and AT&T; I swear I do not know how much more I can take and stay sane.

Both places have become my second homes. And I gotta tell you, I don’t like spending time at either place.

This afternoon, I spent 2 and a half hours at Toyota. I noticed Tuesday, when I hauled the garbage cans out to the curb, that the back right tire didn’t look right … but, I wasn’t exactly feeling ‘right’; I’ve been pretty tired lately while the shingles virus was running through my body, so spent every day I had to pop in and out of the house, between shed and house/garbage cans and house – peeking at that back tire. It always looked ‘off’. So, this afternoon, I was feeling confident enough to drive to Toyota Dealership to have it looked at by ‘a professional’ eye. Sure, enough, it was leaking air. I didn’t have an appointment, so they said they would “get to it when we can get to it.” That seems to be the standard response over there. Like I was supposed to KNOW my tire would start going flat, and jump right on the phone last month and call it in for a scheduled appointment so they’d get right on it.  The car is an all-wheel drive, so if 1 tire has to be replace – they ALL have to be replaced to keep the undercarriage straight and the vehicle in tip-top working order.  So, biting my tongue, I started counting to 10 while I grabbed my coat and backpack purse, and went inside the lounge. To wait. And wait. And wait

Because I had been up since 4 AM, I fell asleep twice while waiting, to the droning of “The Bold & The Beautiful” (which was boring and awful), as well as “The Talk”, which – I gotta say was mind rape – if a man was talking and laughing about women the way those women were talking and laughing about men – there would be protests around the block! It was very sexist, very demeaning, and very politically biased: {modern feminism} in all its horror. And I am a feminist! But, I do not recognize, nor do I support that kind of bitchy female sluttery. It is shameful that women would lower themselves to that level of low-class behavior. And very telling about those that support; and are supported by the demoncrat hypocrites. They will bitch nonstop about men’s locker-room talk, WHILE OPENLY talking trash gutter talk about men: AND LAUGHING LIKE DERANGED HYENAS.

I, personally, do not like that kind of tearing down by either sex.

Dozing off was a blessed relief; I prayed that my ears would not be subliminally assaulted while my body rested.

Eventually, I was informed the tire was repaired and all was fine again: a nail was found in the tire. I just shook my head – if I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. I hope the repair will last long enough for me to successfully squirrel away enough money to replace my tires when necessary.

I picked a few more grocery items up on my way back home. And grabbed the mail before I parked in the carport. I packed the grocery bags into the house, putting the perishables in the ‘fridge before anything else; which was smart, because I decided to open the mail while I drank a cup of coffee before putting the rest of the things away.

I choked on my coffee when I opened the AT&T envelope, and the rest of the things didn’t get put away until around 5:35 PM.

At 3:45 PM, I grabbed my coat and backpack purse, and hopped back in the car to run back into town to AT&T to find out WHY I was being asked for $3.62 MORE. I was not late with payments … I had paid them AT THE DOWNTOWN OFFICE, on time, with the {helpers} help.

I did suffer a crying jag on the drive into town: I am sick and tired of AT&T’s bullshit, and frustrated that I can’t indulge in my fantasy of real-time slamming heads together.

As usual … no one had a clue. Instead, they placed a phone call – handed me the receiver – and beat feet to all corners of the store where I was not. They freaking OUTSOURCED my question. To a man somewhere in India, with a very bad staticky connection; and who did not speak English very well. After about 20 minutes of shouting on both ends of “I can’t hear you!”, “Excuse me, can you repeat?”; the call finally commenced without interruption and I was told that WA State had AGAIN hit me with another State tax. Well, the State legislators STATESIDE who seem to think stateside freeloaders should live like kings and queens on a Senior Citizen’s dime, must have heard through the grape vine that I recently received a 27-cent increase in my monthly allotment … therefore their shifty minds immediately thought I should be billed another $3.62 phone service fee. Yeah – doesn’t make any sense to me either. But then, my mind isn’t criminally hard-wired. So, now my monthly phone bill is $130.82, instead of the 127.20 after the last tax hike.

I asked if $130.82/mo. was my new monthly billing, several times, to be sure/confirm with everyone listening; before I ended the phone call. But, I am sure next month there will be more hell to deal with, with AT&T. Those demons never leave me alone. It has literally been 12 months of billing hell with those morons.

I paid the rip-off fee, there, in the downtown store. The fella that I snagged to help me with the kiosk pay-center, didn’t how to use it any better than I did … we laughed the whole way through the process. And when we turned around, the other helpers were standing around, watching us with their mouths open: they were surprised I could laugh. I felt like saying, ‘Yes, I laugh; when I am not being treated like I am dimwitted by assholes with superiority complexes.’ Instead, I pinched my receipt as the kiosk spit it out, thanked my gracious and humorous helper, and said – as I left and looked at each asshole straight in the eye – “Can you believe it? I am leaving this store with a smile and laugh – that is a first: I think it may even be a miracle.” It certainly was a first :-D And the fella held the door open for me, and said, “I’m glad you are leaving with a laugh; that’s what we’re here for – customer satisfaction.” Now, if the other helpers could understand that, there would be less rancor next month; when I am sure, the AT&T bigwigs and WA legislators will have me storming through the store doors again …

I really just need to find another phone service company and divorce myself from AT&T – it has been a contentious relationship from the get-go; and the fact that they continued to bill my dead husband’s account FOR A YEAR, thinking to double-bill me, did not endear them to me. The demoncrat socialist leaning AT&T is nickel and diming me into the poor house with their poor service, their raising of the dead for profit, and ridiculously hefty price tag.

The nail punctured tire that Bob would have caught right away – and taken care of right away.

The State tax increase on the phone … and upcoming Space Rent coming up in June – that wouldn’t look so big if Bob was still here and we were pulling in 2 Social Security allotments, as planned; and anticipated.

I’m really am doing okay financially. For the time being.

But, M.A.N!

I just felt so overwhelmed after being laid low for 2 weeks.

It sucks when your Friday turns out to be ‘a Monday’.

And there is no one to hug you and say, "Everything will be fine, honey" … or listen to your pre-store-bitching while you blow off steam, so that there doesn’t need to be a need to indulge a head-slamming fantasy.

I miss my man in my life.

I need a freaking break.

I haven’t worn fingernail polish since 1988: brushing a swath of bright color across my nails is another first step into my new life. Maybe painting my fingernails and toenails will color my world and make it seem brighter until that ‘break’ breaks ;-)

I love you, Babe.

Always ~ OX

L'chiam!

2 CORINTHIANS ~ Chapter 6

2 CORINTHIANS ~ Chapter 6

“Working together with Elohim, we entreat you not to fail to use His grace. For He says, ‘I listened to you at the right time, and helped you on the day of salvation. Behold! Now is the right time, now is the day of salvation.’ We do not want to give offense in anything, lest fault may be found with or ministry. We want to prove ourselves good servants of Elohim in every way; through great endurance, affliction, distresses, calamities, floggings, imprisonments, riots, sleepless nights and hunger: in purity, knowledge, forbearance, and kindness, by The Ruach Ha’Kodesh and in sincere love. We must rely on the truth of The Word and the power of Elohei, and must be armed with weapons of righteousness for the right hand and the left. We must experience honor and dishonor, ill repute and good repute. They call us imposters, though we are not. They rate us as unknown, yet we are well known; we are said to be dying, but, see! We live: being punished, but not yet put to death. We are sad, yet always happy; poor, yet making many rich – having nothing, yet possessing everything needed.

We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians; our hearts are thrown wide open to you. Our affections towards you are not restricted, but rather, you are restricted in your own affections. In return – now I speak as to children – you should widen your affections toward us.

Do not be mismated with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? And what fellowship has light with darkness? Or what agreement is there between Mashiach and Belial? Or what has a Believer in common with an unbeliever? What alliance is there between a temple of Elohei, and idols? Elohei has said that we are the Temple of The Living God. He said, ‘I will live in them, and move among them, and I will be their God; and they will be My People. Therefore,’ says Adonai Yeshua, ‘come out from them and be separate; touch nothing unclean, and I will receive you. And I will be a Father to you, and you shall be My sons and daughters’, says the Lord Almighty.” (Leviticus 26:12 & Isaiah 52:11)

**2 CORINTHIANS 5: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/2-corinthians-chapter-5.html

QUEEN WITH GRIT

I’ve had lots of time to think the past few days.

Rain and a run with a shingles outbreak along my spine has kept me in-house. And the gal pals that were supposed to pop in for a chit-chat got scared off by the coronavirus that came to our State via Seattle airport; they think it best to hold off visiting until the flu season is over sometime in April.

So.

LOTS of time on my hands to sit and think …

I did clean the house room by room this week: I was so bored, I had to do something. And I made fingertip towels for each bathroom too – I need to use up my scrap cotton yarn, and needed new towels, so I broke out my yarn stash and Mon Tricot Pattern Stitches book:

MOD Fingertip bathroom towel. Knit ‘mock houndstooth’ pattern & sc hem edgings on both ends.

The pattern is a simple one, so I was able to work the towels up while staying with the Senate hearings all week long ;-)

I also had a thought pop into my head the other day, which is behind the new font colors – and will be carried over to each post that deals with this topic: “Queen with Grit” I am the queen. Bob always said I had grit, and he always treated me like his Queen. We referred to our homes as our “humble castles”; and I, likewise, treated Bob like the “King” of our castle.

So. That is how I will be viewing my life going forward – as a Queen with grit ;-)

Of course, I am a queen without a king. And I don’t even have a fiefdom. But I do still have our castle, the carriage, and property holdings by which to prosper my meager holdings.

This may sound wacky and laughable, but I am serious: if I am ever going to succeed in my new life I have to view it from a position of power – my King Bee imbued me with that power August 27^th, 1974, when he slipped that little gold band on my little finger, and installed me in his hive as his Queen Bee. When my King Bee flew above the clouds to live out his eternal life walking the streets of gold in a parallel world, all the titles to his worldly possessions rightfully and legally became mine, as his Queen Bee. It is up to me to maintain the castle and carriage, and to make sure the gardens thrive and prosper every year – Bob literally gave his life for those garden beds; one way, or another, they WILL produce for, and prosper his Queen. They didn’t do very well last year because my mind couldn’t concentrate very well … I was grieving; and dealing with legal issues every day. And trying to find my place outside and within the fractured family nucleus: neither is an issue this year. This year I can devote myself wholly to rebuilding my life, and making sure the gardens thrive and produce well: I did okay last year, but this year I can do better.

I am already planning for prosperity ;-)

Of course, I no longer have the concern of prospering my King’s possessions to consider anymore; either for him, or his progeny – Bob is no longer here to care, and the progeny have cut themselves off: any prospering that takes place now is solely for my comfort and prosperity, and I don’t need; nor do I want much – just enough to live peacefully and comfortably confidently. I am just a woman alone now; and aging woman with no one to leave her King’s prosperity and holdings to when I, too, am called to Home beyond the clouds.

It’s an adjustment.

It has been a long time since I hosted guests, but I might give that a whirl again; so, I need to make sure the castle is up and running smoothly in that regard.

I like a change of scenery now and then, so the carriage has got to be in tip-top shape too. And with the warranties running out, I have to plan judiciously when it comes to mileage, as the dwindling warranties are connected to mileage. That didn’t really matter before August 2018, because Bob always knew how to do what needed to be done when it came to vehicle maintenance … but my King is on extended leave now, and I don’t know – I am at the mercy of mechanics and maintenance checks, hoping I will be dealt with honestly. Even if so, ‘honest work’ will cost me twice/three times what it cost when the king was still in residence and doing maintenance.

Life around the castle has changed.

The King is gone; there is no knight … and no heir-apparent … waiting in the wings to pledge loyalty to this gray-haired ‘Lady’.

I have to rescue myself.

There are days I still feel disoriented, but I am stronger today than I was this day, last year. I am more confident in establishing self-identity, and I’m battle ready for whatever tempest life throws at me – I’ve already weathered the worst, and I’m still standing: tired, a bit shaken, and a lot bruised … but still standing, a Queen amidst the rubble of my shattered life.

The stronghold of Grief, that threatened to undo me last year, has been breached and is less constricting. I have learned how to press forward towards peace of mind and leave Grief’s chaos behind. Life is a little easier, now that the landscape of my mind is not constantly crowded. With no King in residence, and with the abandonment of progeny, there really is no reason to look towards the future anymore – I can stay grounded in the present. That, to me, is liberating.

I can’t remember a time in my entire life, when there wasn’t someone’s future to worry about. Now there is no one but me … and I’m okay living minute to minute ;-)

2019 was a continuing and trying trauma drama. Bob’s exiting this world with the waning of 2018, was peaceful, all things considered: Elohei was faithful and favored us. I am thankful and feel blessed. The progeny, though, were torments as they both literally attacked me emotionally, verbally, and spiritually; forcing me – like Lady Godiva – to be paraded naked through the wreckage of my life.

But because they perceived me as weak and easily malleable, they didn’t know that I am a woman of grit; their father had every confidence in me, and bolstered that confidence with his dying breaths; telling me again and again that he had confidence I would be strong enough to weather life’s storms as a solo lobo. The memory of those times my beloved king held my hand, strengthening my life as his life was ebbing infused me with renewed strength, and boldness, as I was stripped bare and left vulnerable and exposed. I struggled mightily to survive.

And some days, I still do.

Surviving the physical death of my husband is hard.

Surviving familial betrayal and abandonment, is harder.

But, now, surviving isn’t enough.

I want to engage in fully living live again.

My king will not be returning to the castle: he has taken up eternal residence elsewhere. And I have spent enough time trying to salvage the broken pieces of a shattered life.

There is nothing recognizable left to salvage.

Not one last thing.

There is no more 'we'; in any sense of what that word used to mean – now, there is only me.

There is only me, a solitary queen, who is left to rebuild a life and reinforce the castle, making it my personal domain with a solo lobo purpose.

This is my sole responsibility.

But this is not an easy task: it is a necessary task, but a task I’d rather not engage in. I’ve never lived in a castle before where the imminent return of my king was not expected at some point in time … my heart still longs for him, and my mind is having a hard time coming to terms with the finality of his absence: I am not yet sure how to begin settling into my solo lobo life; I find myself constantly reworking the restructuring framework as I set about rebuilding my new life on the foundation of my old life. I even question if I should keep the old foundation – it is a good, solid foundation; but can I … and more importantly … is it wise to newly rebuild a new life on the foundation of the old life?

It’s a complex predicament.

Even so, despite the daunting task before me, I know I have what it takes to get the job done.

I don’t need a personal merlin with a magic wand, or provoking incantations over a powerful amulet.

I have grit.

Bob gave me the Title of Queen.

And I know I am strong enough to live this life on my own.

I will use my grit to reinvent myself.

I am the architect of my present – I am in charge.

I can redesign my life to be anything I want it to be.

I can have a beautiful life again – full of wonder and excitement, and unfolding in living color.

I can do this ;-)