Day One Hundred Sixty-Nine

Why did I not grieve so much at my father's passing as I have at my son's? What is it that makes it so difficult to accept and understand a child being gone as understanding or accepting the death of the one who gave you life? If we are only concerned with the ego then shouldn't the death of the host be more debilitating than the death of the progeny? In either case, it's the realization of the combination of two lives creating a distinctly unique whole that transcends the idea of the loss of one of the elements that created the new.

Each generation combines the history of two others. Every time a generation creates the next, the history of the past doubles and forms a richer history for each individual. The genetics, the experiences and the capacity for understanding and feeling is multiplied. Each generation becomes a more complex version of the last with an even more complex genetic make up than the one before it. Is there a point where we will no longer feel loss and love as deeply as at this moment because it will somehow get lost in the capacity of the human spirit to experience these emotions? Will we get so saturated that we become desensitized to it all? I only know that the pain I am experiencing now could not possibly get any greater for fear of total loss of the will to live. Whh is the depth of love only realized at the cost of great loss? I am dumbfounded at he need for existence.

Day One Hundred and Sixty-Eight

Last night was the first time since Eric passed that I slept well. I awoke at 5:30am and actually felt rested and satisfied that I fully remembered the dream I was having. My dream life has always been very rich. There were times when Eric and I would relate our dreams to each other, as almost a contest of stories. It was amazing how the images that crossed our conscious lives would be broken down into their essence during those dream states. Eric always won as his dreams were so fantastical. But I had a good dream last night, being with good friends and going to the opera. I think it's why I feel so refreshed and ready to begin another day this morning.

I don't need to water today as the garden got a double dose yesterday from both Bob and I. It's nice just to sit and watch the sun come up behind the trees in the backyard, making everything glow - everything is waking up. Even Meggie is still curled up in her doghouse. I had a lot of scrap redwood from the deck Eric built out front so, I built a good size doghouse that looks like a little building you might find in an early western town - it even has a little bit of a porch. I could write "Meggie's Saloon" across it's facade and it would fit right in along the main street in Virginia City. She seems to like it. The reason I built it was because I noticed she likes to be somewhat "confined" when she sleeps. It's probably due to the fact that she is kennel trained and used to being in a kennel when sleeping. Of course now, being part of the Kvam pack, she sleeps in style - no stinking kennel for her! She is such a sweet little dog and quite a comfort for me. The last time I talked with Eric, he was here at the house and had just come back from taking Meggie for a walk, doing his laundry and eating some spaghetti. I know he and Meggie would have been great pals. That's another reason why I think I slept soundly last night - I took Meggie for a walk up C Hill after work. It always feels good to walk especially in the evening when the sun angle creates those long shadows on everything gracing the surface of this earth. It just gives everything a more dynamic presence.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Seven

Everyday I say Eric's name three times. I burn incense next to the jar of his ashes. I throw kisses at his pictures. I have a vase of flowers in the middle of all the mementos I've placed on the tv cabinet. I look at the road carved into the mountainside in Ash Canyon where the tree, standing tall above all the others, appears as a sentinel marking the spot where Eric took his last breath. How to go on? That's what I ask myself everyday. I have to remember I have a loving husband whose heart and bones, together with mine, created our sons. And to the brother and son left behind, I given up all my love, desires and wishes, for him to carry on for me as I don't have the desire to press ahead with them myself. There is no one in this world that I love more than my boys and husband. I would give anything to change places with Eric.

Flesh and blood is a powerful thing. Without the tangible, things are only as they are imagined. The world that exists outside the tangible is a mystery and sometimes a treacherous mountain to attempt to scale. I feel a great need to explore the unknown but I also wonder if I have the energy and desire. The despair I feel is debilitating and it seems the only time I can plug ahead is in the mundane tasks of daily living and of employment. Sometimes, the more mundane a task is, the more easily it is accomplished which is the exact opposite of what has sustained me over the course of the last couple of decades. The joie de vivre is now the joie de mort. One does not fear death when your child has gone before you. The only fear is that the living will not understand that the grief transcends the love you have for them. The experience of absence is not equal to the experience of presence. Absence is overwhelming. Presence is reassuring.

I do not understand this state of being which is the human life. What is the purpose of matter and energy coming together to form a being? Isn't there purpose in everything, or is all of this just a random physics experiment? How cruel to be given the experience of deep love and then have it taken away by some random act of probability. Any yet, the cruelest thing of all is to want answers to questions that no one can answer.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Six

Yes, it's been awhile and much has transpired since my last post. My garden is my solace right now and as I look out and see everything growing tall and beautiful, I wonder at the idea that I can get such pleasure out of the cycle of life and death that so beautifully plays out season after season. The sunflowers are in their glory and some have already gone to seed, sustaining the multitude of birds that show themselves this time of year. The bees are all abuzz, covering the lavender in full bloom. I've wanted to pick some of the fragrant stems but am reluctant, knowing that I might take some of the joy from the bees who are covered by an armor of pollen. They look like little Samarai busily collecting their treasure before the hints of the next season steal it away.

I look out and see all of the projects that have kept us busy over the years we have been in this house - now reaping the rewards of jobs well done. And I see Eric all over the landscape as many of the projects were begun and finished by him. From the raised vegetable beds to the castle block retaining walls and the water fountain, the new deck out front and the paving stone driveway, his handiwork is a reminder of a life that has since passed. There was the baby, the boy and the young man, who all grew up here and left their mark among the people, places and things we have left. How many, many times in my life here in Carson City have I planned my escape from this place, but now, there is no ache to leave, just an ache to be where he was and always will be. Here in the garden is my Eden. The flowers are not perfect, the weeds still grow and there are the bugs, but as in life, it is the perfect mirror of beauty that still exists in imperfection. Even though Eric had his shortcomings, I still love him so and miss him. It is as C.S. Lewis said, "[His] absence is like the sky, spread over everything."

Day One Hundred Sixty Five

A whole week without blogging! I'll be working for the next five months so blogging may become a luxury. I'm going to diligently try but I don't think it'll become something that occurs on a regular basis. It does feel good to be working again and it seems very familiar to be back in a place where I used to work (albeit a very long time ago). The real good thing about it is planning our next vacation which will be to San Miguel Allende for the Day of the Dead. I've always said I wasn't interested in going to Mexico, but my old boss raves about this place so we're going to end up meeting her there. It should be fun, fun, fun. I love going with people who've already been there.

Day One Hundred Fifty-Eight

It might be a blessing that we ended up back in Carson as we're sitting here this morning watching the snow come down rather heavily. I don't recall seeing birds at the feeder when it's this bad, but they must be hungry as there are quite a few braving the large snowflakes to get at the seed in the finch socks. Just in the last hour there's probably been about a two inch accumulation. Where better to be than at home, our classical music playing in the background, sipping our tea and coffee and taking in the meditative sight of large snowflakes falling, rapidly frosting all of the objects that endure the seasons on their own. These are the times I feel fortunate to live in such a place that so beautifully showcases the many attributes of the four seasons. I know there must be many other places that are equally, if not more lovely than the current visage, but I'm thankful to be right here in this moment. It seems I've been chasing that illusive environment that will somehow provide the means to contentment and satisfaction, but then I'm shaken into the realization that "I" am still in each of the places that I'm hoping will redeem me. When I do experience peace at any one time, in any one particular situation, I believe I need to take it in and try to understand what it is that is giving me just that - it is inside me, not outside.

I think it's a startling revelation for one who does not believe in fate to come to the realization that much of what makes us happy comes from within. To be a believer in fate, one must also believe in an intelligent design which I'm not sure I believe exists. I've always maintained that one must create the life one wants to live and not wait for it to happen because of some force of design that is not defined or known. The only problem with that way of thinking, for me anyway, has been to accept the boundaries of one's own heart and mind. It's sometimes a sobering realization that I probably don't have the mental capacity to do certain things. For instance, I know I could never be a nuclear physicist - nor could I be an opera singer. There are limitations that all of us have to understand and channel desire and ability into a direction that provides the best possible avenue to fulfillment. The abilities we are born with need to be understood and grasped by each of us. Then, to take the abilities and do wonderful things by their means is the ultimate fulfillment. There are things that I would love to do that I know I can do but can't seem to muster the motivation, nor have I been able to muster the motivation to accomplish them. I've always wanted to write the great American novel and I'm sure I could write a book (maybe not the greatest) but I've only been able to come up with some great titles! I think the real need is to come up with an idea for the guts - don't ya think. It makes me wonder how people who do write great books come up with their ideas. Where did JK Rowling get her ideas for the Harry Potter books, for instance? I think that's totally fantastical and wish I had something that deep inside I could drawn on for inspiration. I'm probably too pragmatic in my thoughts. It's not that I don't try!

Day One Hundred Fifty Seven

We set off for Placerville to ring in the New Year with my brother but only got as far as Myers when the starter in our Suburban petered out. We were sitting in the cab of a tow truck at 3:30pm on our way back to Carson City and headed to the Chevy dealership and eventually back home. Needless to say, our New Year's was quiet and early. We did have the opportunity to buy a couple of lotto tickets as the jackpot was 249 million dollars and thought it would have been a good story to break down on New Year's Eve and end up winning the millions, but alas, it didn't happen so we're still scheduled to go to work on Monday as are everybody in our immediate family.

Day One Hundred Fifty Three, Four, Five and Six

Since Christmas, I have gotten absolutely nothing done. I haven't wanted to do anything and, actually, I did accomplish that, so, maybe I have been able to accomplish something! Anyway, I don't feel bad because of it and I'm certainly not thinking about any resolutions for the new year that I might want to adopt so maybe I'm finally on the right track. What I mean by that is, having the mindset of taking each day as it comes and figuring out what would be meaningful and important for any particular day at any particular time. Sounds good to me. So, with that said, I don't feel like blogging right now - and so I'm not going to.

Days One Hundred Fifty One and Fifty Two

It seems cooking has become a major theme of our Christmas holidays anymore, which is fine with me and much welcomed by my family. We told our boys that once your parens get to a certain age, it seems we just don't need anything anymore. If we do need something, we buy it when we need it and because traveling has become our major pastime, we are usually saving for the next adventure. So, with that said, when our children asked us what would be on our Christmas list, we answered, "food." Our eldest jumped on that opportunity and ended up purchasing all the necessary groceries for Christmas dinner. I left the meat choice up to him and so he bought flank steak from our local butcher. It was fun to welcome him home for the holidays as he brought the cardboard box of food supplies in the door. It felt rather old-fashioned, something that would have been the ultimate gift decades ago. Once arrived, I started making a late breakfast of buckwheat crepes and warm pears which we all enjoyed together as we began our holiday.

The bottle of Roederer champagne Jay brought couldn't wait for Christmas Day dinner, however. That was mainly due to the fact that I had prepared lobster lasagna with a creamy artichoke sauce for Christmas Eve which just screamed for a glass of champagne alongside. Besides, I had an Italian Chianti and a bottle of Cantiga Zinfandel for our beef dinner. After an afternooon walk up near the pits and a day of just lounging, the champagne was uncorked and we toasted the evening along with a classic Ceasar salad to start our dining extravaganza. Once the salad course was consumed and the champagne just about exhausted, we cracked open a bottle of Dry Creek fume blanc and dug into the lobster lasagna. It was delicious and a bit over the top as far as richness was concerned, but because I kept the variety of Christmas Eve food to a manageable selection, we were able to enjoy it's fullness without being stuffed. Earlier, we had been nibbling on a cream cheese cracker spread I had put together after smoking a piece of salmon in the stove-top smoker and mixed with some white cheddar and chipotle seasoning. You could say our Christmas got off to a rather fishy start - but a delicious start at that. Small mincemeat and vanilla ice cream pies ended our food evening and we broke out the Mexican train dominos. Eric ended up the big winner in a surprise finish after thinking we would all go down miserably to Jay's first couple of winning rounds. As I sat having fun, watching my family, and doing something as simple as amusing ourselves with a game, I wondered how many other families were doing the very same thing. What fun.

Christmas morning got off to a late start which it usually does at our house. Bob and I were up earlier than the boys and began the morning sitting in our viewing chairs near the backyard window with our coffee and tea as we watched the birds begin the day feasting on all the seed we had thrown around the ground after filling the numerous bird feeders we have. Once the boys woke up, we had toast and opened gifts. Everyone agreed that we would have an early afternoon dinner so none of use ended up having breakfast. We finished up the salmon spread as we snacked on crackers to get us to the dinner bell. Jay got an RSVP ricer for me for my birthday so he let me open it up early to try out on the mashed potatoes I was preparing. I love it - the potatoes were so light and fluffy. I didn't even put any butter in them, just milk and chopped fresh chives for flavor. I roasted yams and mixed those together with some candied ginger, cinnamon, cloves and just a bit of heavy cream to smooth them out. I crumbled some crushed sage leaves I had crisped in butter over the yams. After purusing my Cook's Illustrated magazines several days ago, I had decided on roasted carrots and parmesan green beans as our vegetables and we began our meal with a wonderful, warm, wilted spinach salad sprinkled with pancetta and feta cheese, sautéed red onions and balsamic vinegar along with the bottle of Chianti. It was nice to sit and talk while leisurely eating our salad and enjoying the Chianti. Once we were done, I exited the table and finished the vegetables for plating, put the hot gravy made from the drippings from the two rolled flank steaks I had coated with a cherry balsamic marinade while cookiing, and took the potatoes and yams out of the warming oven. The Cantiga Zinfandel had been opened earlier to let it breath a bit before dinner. I must say, we all enjoyed the food immensely as there were periods of complete silence between sighs of contentment. We didn't have dessert until 6pm, as we had to recover from dinner first. Once the panna cotta, drizzled with warm berry compote was served, we were all, once again, back into the sighs of contentment phase. After that, we ended up in the living room talking and watching a bit of TV until it was time to say goodnight. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I finally rested this old body on the couch. I feel like I could have slept right there. Needless to say, I fell right asleep once we got to bed and only got up once in the night.

Day One Hundred Forty-Nine and Fifty

It's interesting to me how issues manifest themselves in me, sometimes rather insidiously it seems. There are so many factors that play upon my emotional well-being at any one time and unless I have time to really think them through, these factors end up clouding my ability to see things straight at times. The necessity to reflect on the events that occur in my life, the feelings attached to those events and the need to understand why I am the way I am has come at a very high price - and I mean by that, the dance of time which has left me with a feeling of regret and sadness that I am only now realizing. I think, only now, am I finally willing to look at myself with objectivity. With that said, my dissatisfaction and discontentment is beginning to be understood. My life has been made, shaped and defined by me but, unfortunately, I have only realized this at this point in my life and am wondering if it is too late? There are so many questions I constantly put to myself and sometimes, the answers are disturbing - would I have done this different, would I have not done this or that, would I change things and in what way? Perhaps this is the process everyone ends up going through - a kind of last judgment if you will, a good look at one's life in retrospective. Don't get me wrong, I don't plan on this being the last chapter in my "book" but I do want to make the most of the rest of the time I do have on this Earth. And, I don't mean this to be depressing or a commentary of sorrow and regret, I just want to make sure that the forward movement continues forward and that the mistakes of the past are reflected on, learned from, and not repeated. It sounds daunting but I'm up for it and I plan to make the most of each day, but not forget that thoughtful introspection is warranted. I'm sure this is why I am excited about working for the next couple of months and plan to jump in with both feet.

Day One Hundred and Forty-Eight

Hallelujah! There is a God, and God is the Sun, and it's high in the sky and magnificent. As you can probably guess by now, I was elated to see a bright blue sky, birds and glistening snow this morning. There are so many birds out and the resident hawk was perched in the neighbor's tree scoping out the day's first meal. It is truly a sign of the power of light when the birds disappear and don't present themselves until the sun presents itself once again. I went out and threw a bunch of seed on the ground so they can munch away before the next round of rain and snow.

Day One Hundred Forty Six and Forty Seven

I was in a real funk yesterday. The weather was the most depressing display of snow, pouring rain, slush, and dark, dark, dark gloom. Even physically, I was struggling to find solace and comfort which didn't seem to want to manifest. Bob and I decided to brave the weather and head to Grover's Hot Springs just to find some forward momentum in some activity. It helped to get into the hot water, although the temperature wasn't as hot as it usually is. We sat in the hot water and watched several snow squalls move across the little valley below the springs and felt the snow and rain come down, sometimes pretty hard on us while we relaxed. We stopped at the Cutthroat Saloon and had lunch and then headed back home. It was a nice get away and we almost felt as if we were in a time warp as we didn't see many people out that day and we were the only ones in the restaurant.

Today, however, was a different story. After running into a very excellent friend and sharing our mutual stories of our Sunday funk, I felt comforted in a selfish way that I wasn't the only one out there ready to throw in the towel of life. We hugged and reassured each other and ourselves that things would be alright - and they are - because this evening the full moon presented the most incredible optic experience I have ever witnessed during the winter. I have a large maple tree right outside my back door that leads to the backyard. It ends up being beautifully backlit when there is a full moon and tonight was no exception. But something extraordinary occurred mainly due to the wet weather we had on Sunday, my day of funk. There were frozen droplets of water all over the tree - small and round. Because there's going to be a lunar eclipse tonight, I poked my head out the back door and the droplets of water all over the tree were lit up by the moonlight. It was as though the tree was strung with Christmas lights! I keep going out the back door just to catch another glimpse and soak in some of the magic even though it's icy cold outside. It is truly beautiful and I wish I could get a photograph. How magical. Thank you universe for the natural uplift from the dreary doldrums of yesterday.

Day One Hundred Forty-Five

The weather's been pretty blustery and chilly but I did manage to get out and go to the grocery store. However, this afternoon was a different story - it warmed up and the snow has been melting quite rapidly. Despite the warmer temperatures, I felt colder this afternoon than at any other time during the day. So, with that said, I decided I needed to get in the kitchen to warm up. I pulled out a ricotta gnocchi recipe from Cook's Ilustrated as I've been coveting some homemade ricotta I had stored away a couple of weeks ago. The recipe was surprisingly simple as it didn't require any potato mashing, but instead used the ricotta as the base. Since my ricotta was homemade, I was able to omit the necessity of straining the store bought cheese which saved me a lot of time. I think all in all, it only took me about 20 minutes to get the gnocchi ready to cook. While the batter refrigerating for about 15 minutes before cutting, I cooked the sauce which consisted of some leftover marinara with a splash of vodka, some roasted pine nuts and finished with about 1/4 cup mascarpone cheese. I think Bob likes it as I haven't heard a word from him since I put the plate on the table. A good glass of sauvignon is washing it down as we speak. I did taste it and I certainly could eat a whole bowl full, but because my heartburn has been a real issue for the past couple of weeks, I'm not going to risk the tomato acid. Oh well, at least I'm able to feed my husband, and guess what? - I'm sweating!