A Porch of My Own
Sunday, August 20, 2017
Looking Back
After I wrote the last post earlier this week, I took the time to edit some of the photos I have on the blog. They've remained the same since I moved. There's a list where the photos are on the side of the blog that shows the most popular posts. As I scrolled down it one caught my eye.
It was A Leap of Faith. It was written almost a year ago, in September of last year. I opened it and reread it. It described how I felt when I first decided to sell the ranch and move to Colorado. It brought back the feelings just as if it was happening to me again. How I felt being there without the life I once had when Rickie was alive. It was a feeling of drowning, where you can't catch your breath. You want to just double over and scream, and sometimes you do, but you know that won't save you. There's no hand to reach out and pull you to safety.
And it made me realize how much better I am now after the move. Time passing has helped also. But I feel like if I was still there the time wouldn't have made much difference. I would still be drowning with no hope of being saved.
It's not that I'm forgetting or letting go of the loss and the sadness. I carry that with me inside, and sometimes outside, and always will. It's that the day to day living in a new place, a peaceful and beautiful place, has helped me to heal. It's removed some of the despair and replaced it with hope. Hope that I can and have found some moments of joy. Some on the days my loved ones have been here. And some on the days I'm alone, maybe hiking along the river or driving the roads surrounded by the majesty of the mountains.
I've made some friends that have been kind to me and I'm feeling less like an outsider when I'm with them. Shortly after I moved my new friend Angie, who is my sons' age, invited me to go hear live music every week at one of the places in town. She knows everyone and has a group she is close to that meets up. I don't always go but I've tried to be consistent and go enough that they don't forget me. It's not easy. It often makes the fact that I'm alone more obvious. But I go anyway because I know it's good to go out among people. And I know it takes time to feel at home with new friends. Except for Angie who makes everyone feel at home the minute you meet her.
This past week when I left, Angie's boyfriend, a kind young man, took my hand to say goodbye and tell me he loved me, as a dear friend or one of my kids would do. Our friend Beth stopped me as I was leaving to hug me and tell me she likes it when I come join them. The older gentleman that is also a client of Angie's came with another caregiver. Though he can barely walk, he always asks me to dance and insists on walking me back to my seat. I'm beginning to feel like I fit in a bit more.
I have a rule in these gatherings that makes it easier for me to go. My drink rule is "one and done" and I only stay about an hour. So if I'm feeling out of place, I know it won't last for long.
I've still not found that friend yet that I can call up and say hey, I'm going hiking, want to come. But I'm feeling less like a visitor and more like a resident. And I still like to be alone a lot. I've always been that way, which has come in handy since I am alone a lot.
After reading the post about my decision to sell, I also reread the one when I balked at going and couldn't sign the papers to list the ranch, and then the later one when I got past that and did list and started to look forward.
Looking forward, I guess, is the thing that made the move right for me. While we can't or shouldn't ever forget the past, especially when it was the best part of our life, we can't live there. Life is constantly changing and we have to adapt to that. Things will never get better on their own. We have to try and make them better. Even when the trying is painful also.
I'm glad I've written down my feelings over the years. It helps to go back and look at it and see how far I've come. It makes me appreciate what I have and shows me that I am getting better. With a little help from my friends.
And with thanks to my family, who not knowing if it was the right decision or the worse one ever, fought down whatever feelings of loss they had, and said what the hell, let's do it.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
A Change in the Weather
Yesterday morning it was 44 degrees when I woke up. For the last few days, just before daybreak, I'd been pulling up the Pendleton wool blanket I keep at the foot of the bed. It was a splurge, a gift to myself when I first moved here. Rickie and I had long been in love with these blankets but couldn't justify the cost when we were often still in the 100s as Autumn rolled around, and running the AC for Christmas gatherings.
So once I had the bedroom painted white and my white linens on the bed, I ordered one in turquoise, my favorite color. It has a little orange in it, also my favorite color! I've left it on the bed throughout the Summer because I like to see it every day.
A couple of weeks ago coming back from Denver I went further South than normal, trying to scout out a road to use in Winter that doesn't involve going over Wolf Creek Pass. With my closest kids now in Denver I need to know all the ways to get there. Driving along the valley between the mountains I thought I'd found a good route. As the road began to rise, I started worrying. When I saw the signs to chain up I knew this wasn't going to be the route I was looking for! It was actually more worrisome than going over Wolf Creek Pass as that road is wide and well traveled.
But I did come upon the most beautiful view of Conejo Canyon where the Conejo River runs. The road had been running alongside the river for a while and there were occasional fishing camps with small cabins for rent. Signs at the pullover for the view said the last known grizzly bear in Colorado had been killed back in the area. There were millions of aspens and I could only imagine what it must look like when they turn yellow. I intend to return and find out!
The train that runs from Chama, which was my route destination, runs up into the area, though I don't believe it goes up to the canyon. I've added it to my Fall wish list of things to do. The train ride includes lunch according to the ladies in the dog walking group I've been having lunch with. We walk dogs at the animal shelter on Wednesday and then have lunch together. These ladies are awesome and have been doing this for years. I'm only just getting started.
Next trip to Denver I'm trying a different route that takes me over the mountains further South on the road that runs from Tierra Amarillo to Taos. Rickie and I went over this road back in 2013. I don't recall any hair raising passes, but I need to be sure. We did meet up with a cowboy on horseback and his dog moving cattle down the road. A lot of this area, including the area I had tried this last trip, is open range. Cattle are all along the road and sometimes in the road. That's life in the Wild West!
With Summer winding down I've now experienced Colorado in all its seasons. Rickie and I always came here in the Fall and that was the only season I knew until I decided to move here. With the end of August, I've seen every month and what Colorado has to offer in each. None of them has disappointed me, though the mud in Spring is probably my least favorite. Mud is my least favorite form of dirt! But even then the greening of the land and the promise of wildflowers to come offsets the mud.
I met a lady in the dog walkers group that has lived here for over 20 years. Her husband of 53 years was in the Air Force and they lived all over, originally from Syracuse, New York. They had no children. He passed away two years ago. She said there's no place on earth she'd rather be than Pagosa Springs. She told us stories of the hunters that came for many years and stayed with them. She would cook their meals and from the description of her meals, they were lucky hunters! I felt a connection to someone who's life included some of the same things mine had.
I'm slowly weaving myself into the tapestry of life here in Colorado, making a life for myself. The beauty of the landscape, the stories of the people I meet, the history I'm learning, it all winds itself into my own story. There are times I miss the ranch more than others. But it's not the actual ranch I miss, it's the life I had there with Rickie. I packed that up when I packed up the things I brought with me. It influences what I do here and it influenced where I came when I decided to move.
I'm grateful each and every day that I'm able to live this life and share it with family and friends. While I was in Denver a long time friend of my son's and his girlfriend came to spend a few days at the cabin. He left me a beautiful drawing of the cabin, which is at the framing shop right now. Everyone that comes blesses and honors this home by their company.
And Colorado blesses me. The mule deer that come out on the hill each evening and pass by going to the creek, the black bear that visits my neighbor and I have yet to see, the beautiful conifers up the hill looking like an army of Christmas trees, the first horned toad I've seen in 20 years, the stories of grizzly bears and of hunters; it's all becoming part of my story now.
And I wonder what each upcoming chapter will bring.
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