August is, for me, the cruellest month. It was in August, 2010, that my soulmate and
domestic partner of 43 years died suddenly of a massive cerebral hemorrhage. My life was radically
changed. I don’t quite know how to look forward, and am still trying to re-imagine the universe.
We were newly retired teachers–one in mathematics and one in the arts–had just bought a home in New Hampshire midway between the mountains and the sea, were in good health and looking forward to many new, good things when, as they say, it hit the fan. I learned that grief is very much like fear–it gets you right in the gut. And so I proceeded to develop a cancerous tumor, right in the gut, the mind-body connection patently obvious. Surgery, a refusal of chemo and a good health regimen have returned a semblance of sanity to this big old houseful of me, my big, old dog, and my two old cats.
Memory has a way of causing one to relive traumatic experiences as anniversaries come around. So I give myself a more gentle time in August.
I plan to keep up the momentum of my weekly poem posting, but for this month I think I will re-post a few things from my archives.
One of the things my beloved friend had been planning to do was to help me to try and publish some of the many hundreds of poems I’ve written over the years…..and to not be such an Emily Dickinson about it. I always replied that poetry really has no marketability, and my work, especially, doesn’t exactly fit what is popular today, so why bother?
The adventure of this blog has been a good thing for me; I deeply appreciate and thank everyone who simply reads it, and blow a kiss to my faithful ‘liking” and commenting friends.