Growing the Write Way

I thought about several different titles for this piece, such as “watching time,” “keeping time,” “marking time,” and “moving through time. None of those captured my feeling. I’m not an outsider watching the time. Nor am I simply marking time or keeping track of the minutes and hours. I am, indeed, moving through time – yet that implied I’m just acting and reacting.

I’m alive. I breathe, eat, sleep, move, write, speak, and feel a wide spectrum of emotions. There are moments of sadness; humorous moments, frustrating seconds…all within the same day. I am living within the time I have each day. And I’m trying to live it well.

An item that tracks the time within which I live is a watch. And to track special times, I have a new timepiece. My husband gave me a gold watch, posthumously. The watch arrived after he passed away. Herschel wanted me to have nice jewelry and enjoyed giving me pretty pieces. I look at this shiny, new timepiece and feel his warm feelings for me.

The shimmering gold reminds me of the sun, which reminds me of the summer days when we met. Those were idyllic days. We were truly living together in time.

Now I am living alone, in time, and have his gift to help me continue.

There are some upcoming networking and business events in a new venue. To clarify the details, I’ve exchanged emails recently with one of the women in charge of these events. The name sounded familiar, yet I couldn’t place it. Suddenly, my brain clicked in connecting this woman’s name and the original organization. I thought we had been in touch six years ago about a social network group – of the face-to-face variety. I broke out of the “business mold” and asked her if she is the same person who had chaired that group. Yes!

Our lives had moved in different directions in the intervening years. Since the first contact was pre-LinkedIn and pre-Facebook, we had lost touch. Yet here we are, networking again, albeit through a different type of organization. And both of us even have a presence on WordPress!

Small world.

All I did was pack away Herschel’s black hats into their hat box. Then I decided to toss some old small boxes that were in the front hall closet. Just cleaning up. I didn’t expect to fall apart and cry as a result of these actions. Nor did I expect to get teary-eyed while attending a lecture today.

My natural inclination is to ask, “Why?” Then again, why ask “why”? Why analyze? The passing is still so fresh.

This situation is a conundrum – I’m learning to expect the unpredictable reactions. Occasionally, I’ll be caught by surprise. My responses are rather refreshing: I’m allowing open, honest feelings to show through.

♦ ♦ ♦

I spontaneously registered for two networking events in January. Now that action really caught me by surprise! A bit of my old self  is willing to shine.

Attempting to see the road while driving in the snow storm today was an exercise in clarity. The wind blew the snow all around the cars. The streets were not well plowed. Ice formed on the windshield, rendering the wipers somewhat useless. Yet, slowly, the defrost mechanism took over and melted the ice. The wipers did their job. And I arrived at a long section of clear roadway.

Even in the midst of a storm – an upheaval – there are moments of clarity. Slowly, income and expense numbers are understandable. It’s clear who the correct creditors are and when payments are due. Gradually, the important items rise to the top of the list. Little by little, a routine takes shape.

I sorted through another two bags today, and realized that sorting is a way to connect with Herschel. I found letters, post cards, and greeting cards (homemade and store-bought). Through the correspondences, I learned about the personalities of the people who were part of Herschel’s life before I knew him. Here’s what I discovered today:

• Sam (Herschel’s dad) was a romantic; he wrote loving notes to his wife on greeting cards. Truly a sentimentalist.
• Aunt Lil (Sam’s sister) enjoyed living in Los Angeles, CA, from where she wrote her humorous letters.
• Herbie (Sam’s brother) didn’t write; Lil included him in her correspondences.
• And Sarah, Sam’s wife (aka Herschel’s mom) was her husband’s equal as a romantic. I cried over the longing she expressed in her letters to her husband while he was overseas in WWII.

Of course, I continue to discover more family mementos: invitations to family events (in perfect condition); the equivalent of now-defunct green stamps, and report cards!

I uncovered some of the roots of my husband’s sentimentality. He had great teachers.

Typically, I’m a morning person. My energy is higher in the morning than in the evening. I enjoy the sunrise and watching the squirrels and birds carrying out their morning chores.

Recently, I’ve become a night person – bedtime is well after midnight. I discussed this phenomenon with S. She suggested that I not analyze it and consider the change temporary. Rather, follow her mother’s advice that these hours are “the uninterrupted quiet of the night, when you can put your worry to work!”

I liked that advice. I’ve put my worry to work by writing, reading relaxing material, or listening to gentle music.

The uninterrupted quiet of the night is soothing.

Mingling with others. Meeting a friend for coffee. Entertaining guests in my home. Preparing for a celebration.

It’s wonderful to step out into the world of people. It’s a pleasure to open my home to guests. There’s a sense of normalcy about all of this activity.

And I’m grateful for the strength to socialize.

Coffee, anyone?

I used to receive personal mail addressed to “Mr. and Mrs.” Now these types of mailings come to “Mrs.” In fact, people changed their personal mailing lists shortly after Herschel passed away. Maybe they thought I’d be hurt if they had addressed the envelope to both of us? I appreciate the sensitivity. Yet, what was the rush?

It’s odd to receive invitations that were once – only a short time ago – addressed to “Mr. and Mrs.” The change is a stark and shocking reminder of my new status.

I suppose I’ll adjust to receiving mail in my name alone.

I thought I’d sleep in today – give myself a bit of a break. My body thought otherwise. I was up with the birds – whatever few are left in Northeast Ohio!

After my regular morning routine, I checked emails and made a few business calls. Then headed out for some errands and appointments. One of the providers cancelled our appointment, so that left me with, “Well, now what do I do?”

It wasn’t particularly beautiful weather, yet I didn’t mind the rain/snow mix. I opted to use the unexpected time to shop for a new comforter (courtesy of a friend’s gift to me). Yes, I searched for a purple comforter. The search was actually a hidden exercise routine: I walked for about an hour – up and down aisles and in and out of several stores. I found my reward for exercising in the last store – a light and dark purple striped comforter.

Something warm, fuzzy, enjoyable, and new. What a treat!

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I’m back on Examiner.com as the Cleveland Telecommuting Examiner. Check out my latest post here.

I’m at a milestone – 30 days since Herschel’s passing. We marked the date with a small gathering in my home (our home? seems odd to write “my home”). One of the attendees completed a tractate of Talmud at this gathering. That tractate was the one he and Herschel had studied. A couple of people shared their memories of Herschel’s commitment to studying, his landscape abilities, and his willingness to help others.

This got me thinking. What’s a “milestone?” What’s the etymology of the term? From a quick read on the Web, I discovered that a milestone was literally a stone on the road that marked the distance from any given point. Apparently, that literal meaning has evolved into a figurative definition – an important event or a turning point.

This 30-day marker is definitely a turning point. During these first 30 days, I observed certain restrictions in activities and even in dress. For me, those restrictions are now lifted. I can now return to the hobbies, pastimes, and pursuits I had participated in before Herschel passed away.

Knowing that I can return to certain activities and actually returning to them are two different situations. How can I return to a hobby just because the calendar says 30 days are complete? Feels like I’m being asked to jump into the cold lake early on a camp morning! Burrrr – I didn’t really enjoy the polar bear routine.

So how do I approach this milestone? Carefully, cautiously, quietly, gently – one step at a time. It is a transition and a challenge…and it’s all good!

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From sunset of December 21 through sunset of December 22, 2009: May our words and actions that we take to help others be a merit for Herschel Avraham ben Simcha Yosef.