feralfae

Oh Jan, it is so completely ok. There are some of Doug's things that I can barely touch yet. There are some things I can hold and feel the tears welling up. And some things, it feels as though I have gathered all the love and memories from those things and can let them go now. I think we are each on our own timetable, our own path, our own schedule. Honoring that—and all your emotions— for yourself, and being kind and gentle with yourself are the healthy requirements for grief, I think. I know what you mean about needing a reason to stay engaged in life. I am being mentor for several young people now, helping to mount an art exhibit, and getting more involved in Meeting as well. I need people and purposes in my life. I know my primary job right now is still to keep healing and taking good care of myself as I heal, but I need to have places to use my energy and talents and knowledge as well. I know you are the same. Some big projects are taking shape in my life, and I will talk about them when they are a bit further along, but I look forward to having more sense of purpose if things work out, and if not, I know other doors will open. I don't think we will ever get over losing our husbands. And I think that is natural and part of life. We learn to be gentle with our hearts, to cherish the love we still have in our hearts, and to find new ways to share our lives with others. I am sending you some {{{hugs}}} as you carry on. *<twinkles>* fae

Thank you for that Stephen. I have come to love the solitude of traveling alone. I have the opportunity to focus all my attention on the where-ness of this moment, and to savor being alone in the desert, or alone at a winery, or alone at a gallery, or even the symphony. Sometimes, the triggers are strong, but now I accept those triggers as a part of who I am right now, and I hold them a moment, then send them on their way. If tears come, I cry. If I am delighted, I smile or laugh. Being alone, it is easier to take the time and patience to really look within for answers, rather than immediately sharing with another. It is a different and healing experience, as the "becoming me" sifts through bits of the "old me," sorting and letting go, picking up and cherishing, and maybe letting go, or maybe finding the place this piece of my puzzle fits with the me I now am becoming. I have solo camping trips planned. More of them. I am feeling a new strength in my center, as I open to possibilities and begin to welcome the flow of life back into my being. I have just cleared so much "stuff" —and I could end the project with remembering Doug's smile and laugh. There are more adventures before me, and I want to be swept up by life again as much as I can for as long as I can. I am getting my Honda ready to drive the AlCan again, because I love that drive and have friends and art colleagues to visit along the way. I am going back to being an adventuring artist. There are doors to new, wonderful adventures opening before me, and pretty soon, when I have finished this part of the journey, I will choose one of those adventures and follow the Path where I am Led. I am simply staying open to as much as I can, smiling a lot at the wonderfulness of the serendipity of it all. The synchronicity of it all. Life is becoming an adventure again, and I hear that message in what you are writing as well. I imagine many here can talk about their returning sense of life. I'd love to hear more stories as well. This is it. This is life. I hope others will post how they are returning to the flow of life. It happens in tiny baby steps, and sometimes, as we think we have tenderly and gently dropped one little toe into the water, a wave of Loving Creativity from the Mind of G*d sweeps over us, carrying us to places we have never before imagined. So, how is the solo life going out there for our Tribe? I think a lot of us are doing better than we had thought we could. And Stephen, if I get cold feet, I'll be taking you up on that offer of a hand to grab. Thank you. I hope there is a sense of how much I feel life beginning to flow around me, how fascinating life can be, and how wonderful it is to have even terribly hot days, friends who come to visit, birds at the pond, and this wonderful Tribe. Because you all "get it." namaste, fae

Smudgie, How are you? Check in here when you will. Know that we are thinking about you and wishing you well. Peace to your heart, feralfae

. . . and, so I was just out in the MW, praying, and asked Doug if there was anything he wanted to tell me, and I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "you're on the right track." Today, the rotors on the Honda were turned. And it was a lot less than I feared to have this repaired. And my girlfriend Jenny and her hub found the perfect house. I am so very excited for them Any they will be a lot closer to me - 20 miles closer and in town! I am taking a spa day tomorrow, taking a bubble bath, giving myself a pedicure and doing my own hair, and giving myself a facial, while I listen to beautiful music all day. I am not going out in the smoke if I can help it, and I will stay inside out of what may be thunderstorms. I have two books to read. And lovely fresh organic foods. I can make smoothies! Kay, did I already ask you if you can sleep outside? How is your smoke over that way? We are supposed to have cooler weather tomorrow, down in the 70s. I'm so glad the days are getting a little cooler, and hope that continues for you and me. And to get all the tires away -- what a wonderful piece of clearing your space! Good for you! The godchildren will be here next week to do firewood, touch-up staining and yard cleaning. They all took summer college courses this year, so they have been super busy. Now I get to have them for a week. I know you are going to be so happy to have the tires gone. Maybe you can look around to see if there is anything else you could send away with your son? Just a thought. Time for me to get some rest. A long but very good day here. I hope we all have beautiful dreams. *<twinkles>* fae

The smoke is obscuring the Divide, town, and the Lake now. Rain is on its way. I give thanks. I read this today, and thought of us all. It may already be posted here somewhere, but has so very much of worth to say about this journey toward tomorrow that I thought it was worth sharing here. REFUGE. SANCTUARY. LOVE. Gretchen Schmelzer July 27, 2015" . . . No one wants to be a refugee, but I believe that anyone who has lived through trauma or severe grief is a refugee--especially if you choose to heal. Trauma and traumatic grief mean that you are cast out of a land of innocence. Not just a world where you would believe that everything is okay—or that the world is just. It’s bigger than that—because trauma and severe loss mean that you lose an innocence of self—an innocence of believing that in a difficult situation you would rise to the occasion—you would do the right thing, not the human thing. You know that you have done whatever you needed to do to survive and you know what it means to feel truly helpless. You have seen yourself at your worst in a world that couldn’t help you at that moment: and you can’t ever go back. And never being able to go back is the working definition of refugee. . ." ". . .Sanctuary is an open space. Your heart is open. Your mind is open. The future is wide open. In trauma the future is known: you are always anticipating the trauma you lived through. In sanctuary, you really don’t know what might happen next. It is lovely. And it can be scary. Like any big developmental milestone. You have arrived in a place where you can’t return. The way a toddler can’t turn back in to a baby—the way a tree can’t turn back in to a sapling. . . " Very inspiring as well. *<twinkles>* fae

Der Jan, Your compassion and caring are beautiful. I know you will be a comfort to your friend, and through that caring, I think you will find your own heart healing a bit as well. I will be thinking of you today, dear friend. namaste, fae

Dear Cathyc, What a wonderful heart you have! I am so vey sorry to hear about your brother, and I know this time of anticipatory grief and preparing for his leaving must be painful and heartbreaking for everyone. Perhaps you could simply sit with your SIL and let her know how much you love her and value her company, and that even though your brother, her husband, will not be with you, that you want to stay close to her, that she is still family, and that you will continue to love her. What a comfort that will be to her—to know that she is still loved and appreciated and a part of your family. And it may help her to feel less alone in the days to come. I am sure others will share more ideas with you, and I hope you will let us know how things are going for you, dear heart. Blessings to you through this sad time of letting go. If you and your SIL are huggers, this is a perfect time for lots of hugs, by the way. Peace to your Heart, feralfae

I am going to have pink peppermint, one scoop, and Mexican Chocolate, one scoop, when I go out for ice cream! Yes, we are being courageous to sort and clear things, and sometimes we are able to face forward and look at the possibilities of the future. I know I am not ready for dating yet. I still love Doug. I am comfortable with that. I may never be ready for dating. I have been asked out a few times, but it feels as though I would be unfaithful to Doug if I went out with another man on a "date." I am not ready. My heart is still filled with Doug. I am so very thankful that I have wonderful loving friends and a lot of emotional support here with our Tribe. Thank you Anne and Kay for the encouragement, support, for cheering on these efforts. Kay, it is down to 91F here, and feels cool after the heat of the day. Anne, I know you are so happy to have some rain. I find muggy hot days most uncomfortable. We are obviously not tropical people! *<twinkles>* fae

Kay, I am so very proud of you! Getting things moved away is such a challenge! Packing Doug's shoes, slippers, boots, and socks was hard: most of them, I had bought for him. He avoided shopping more than any man I have ever known, including my store-avoiding Dad. When I carefully wrapped his Irish Linen monogrammed handkerchiefs that I gave him for Christmas a few years ago, after washing and ironing all of them, it was a tough moment, but I got it done. It sounds as though you are clearing a lot of "stuff" that you would never use, and getting rid of "stuff" others have stored with you. And I am so happy for you, because IT IS TIME!!! Life gets a lot easier as we shed those things we neither cherish nor use. I loved some of the art of family members, because they are good artists, and some of it was of others' ranches, farms, homes, ships. But I wanted to send things on that I don't want to be responsible for any more, and you are doing the same thing. We can both celebrate with a glass of iced tea or lemonade. It is 101F out on the patio right now. I am in for the day and chilling in the cool of the earth-beamed lower level, where, if I keep it all closed up and the thermal shades closed, doesn't get above 70F or so. It also stays pretty warm in winter, thank goodness. Yes, it is very, very good to get rid of some things, and I will also save $$ not having that storage space. And I sold two more books on Amazon today! And, I must tell you this: I was talking to one of the cousins in Vermont, who called Doug's family "barbarians" and I thought it was such an apt term that if they come to mind from now on, I will simply call them "barbarians" and send the thought away. I know it must be hot over there, too. But aren't you proud of us that we are clearing and sorting, and making room in our homes and lives for the future G*d will set before us? namaste, fae

With help, one storage unit is completely empty, and we filled a pickup and the entire back of the crew cab with boxes, boxes, boxes! So wonderful to have cleared so much stuff. Some we shipped to cousins, some was carried away, and some we gave to Helena Industries, but no matter how, it is good to have fewer things under my care. It feels so very good to be getting all this done. Today, I will deal with the laundry and putting things back together from having helpful company. As as with any intense project, I'm now catching up in other areas of my life and home. I am late with notes and letters. The flower beds need weeding. Every time I go out to sit on the patio, I can feel Doug here with me, looking out at the forest, sipping a glass of wine, and talking into the night, while we hold hands and make plans for our next adventure. I know Doug is proud of me for making these big steps to clear my way for a future that I cannot yet quite envision. I know he is delighted with my gradual return to good health. I know he is watching over me and doing all he can to keep me safe and protected. And I miss him. But I am moving forward, one day at a time, at my own slow pace, finding little bits of my shattered heart, and slowly, gently, tenderly, putting those bits into place as I patiently solve this puzzle of who I am now, how Doug fits into my life these days, and how to make decisions about what to keep, and what to let go—on so many levels. I am glad there is so much of Doug still all around me, and relieved that I have been able to clear so much of what he or I no longer need. Sometimes, for a few minutes, packing things to take to a charity felt as though I was somehow relinquishing Doug, but more and more I have come to realize that the Love stays right here in my heart, no matter what happens to "stuff" and that I am right where and when I need to be today. namaste, fae

Thank you for sharing your words. Fate will speak when it is time. namaste, fae

Dear Jan, Yes, it helps remarkably. I don't know how I would have made it through these past three years if I had not discovered my own words. written here by others, describing this journey so very well. Yet, coming from the hearts of others, I felt my own heart responding to shared minutes and emotions on this grief journey. I strongly feel that being here has helped to keep me as sane as I have been able to be during this time. I am presently reading Donne's poetry. I have not read his sermons yet. Our favorite poem after Doug got very sick was by Donne, "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" which I read to him the night he left, along with other poems and prayers we had for that night. And sang to him, of course. When you wrote earlier about your anniversary, all I could think was how our anniversary will always be a day I will set aside for remembering the wonderful days of our time together here. It is also Doug's birthday. Both the same day, so he could remember it more easily. I understand. Thank you for understanding as well. It is comforting and validating for me to know that I am "seen" by others as my yet occasionally ghostly spirit walks this grief path. But I am a lot more solid, real, alive, in harmony, than I was three years ago. Your anniversary. I think that all the joy and hope, all the dreams and overflowing tender love of that day will always fill us with wonderful Light, more and more each year. I think our memories will become pearls and rubies of beauty adorning our hearts, and anniversaries will become a day on which we can take out our jewels of Love and admire and cherish them, in all their luminescence and love. We are not there yet, but it is a goal to consider on anniversaries, I think, to be able to hold the memories as precious pieces of who we are today, and to wear that beauty as a special sparkle in our eyes, a moment of joy for these butterflies and moths and dragonflies. For we have such certainty and absolute knowledge that we are still loved that we can celebrate our love in joy some of the time now. And our Love is forever. {{{hugs}}} to you today dear Jan, although by the time you are reading this, it is already tomorrow where you are. We are adorned with the beauty of our Love. namaste, fae

Dear Jan, Yes, these triggers are all still around us. Sometimes I find myself ambushed by a flood of tears, and sometimes, I can hold the memory that is causing the trigger, and cherish those times, and even smile a little. Sometimes, I will pick one of his tools and simply hold it, thinking about his energy, his creativity, and all the wonderful things he did for me, made for me, took the time to think about for me. I am slowly moving more of Doug's things out of the house. Doug's medicine cabinet is still intact, there are still some of his things in his closet, and some of Doug's things are still in the kitchen cupboards, in the library, and in the living room. Some of them I cannot part with quite yet, but I am making some progress. HIs night stand is still filled with his things. I am content to leave everything there, and comforted going to sleep to know his reading glasses, his handkerchiefs, and his other little things are still in a drawer next to our bed. Someday, I will be ready to clear more, but for right now, I am simply proud that I have cleared so much. I am glad you could cry after your friend called, and that you could know your tears were for her and for you. We make it, day by day. *<twinkles>* fae

Thank you Anne, Kay, Carrie, for your understanding and validation. Needless to say, the grief bursts come often and sharp as I hold some of Doug's things for the last time: his winter parka, his triple-insulated gloves, his snow boots, his shop tools and his art supplies. Yesterday, I sorted and packed all his socks and underthings, except that I kept out a couple of his special t-Shirts for my own use in winter. But his special climbing socks, and other alpinist gear are all sorted to a big box for the young climbers here or in Alaska. There is sometimes a sense of relief that I have made this decision to let go of these things. I know others will find good use in a lot of what Doug no longer needs. And I am coming more and more to understand that this is all just "stuff" and not Doug. Doug is still here, his spirit as strong and magnificent as ever, expressing himself in so many ways, so many happenings, that I am in awe of the entire journey. Anne, you are working through your own set of decisions right now, and I am so very proud of how you are coping, patiently and deliberately, with your own challenges. Kay, I hope when your girlfriend is moved back and settled in that she can help you with sorting and clearing things. I feel less that I am decluttering, and more that I am lightening my load so I can begin a new pitch with less of a load in my pack. But it amounts to the same thing, I know. I also know that if I want new and good things to come into my life, I must have Faith, and make room for those things for when they come. Carrie, there have been days when all I could pray for was that my Faith would be sustained and strengthened. I lost so much of it around Doug's death and the other happenings then. Now, thank G*d, I know most truly that I have never been abandoned. My perspective has shifted, and I feel more strongly than ever that if I listen, stay on my Path, and remember Whom I follow, things will work out; things will be all right. There is an Ultimate Plan that I cannot see, but I can trust, have Hope, and have Faith, and know that it is all unfolding as it should. But for me, I must remember to do my small part in the Plan, so that things can unfold with grace and beauty. Hang on. We are all here around you, as we hold each other's hearts and share each other's healing. Time to fix breakfast for company, make a pot of coffee, and then get ready for Meeting. I hope we each have a beautiful day, filled with lovingkindness and joy as we walk in beauty. *<twinkles>* fae

Thank you dear Kay, You know, I think I will be living in anticipation—joyful anticipation—until I see Doug again. Yes, there is still grief, and life's challenges, and this journey, for sure. But there is also that energetic joy of well-being in knowing that someone who loves me is waiting for me as much a I am waiting for him. Meanwhile, we hold each other's hearts. That makes the waiting possible, and seasons my days with joy, smiling that this love goes on. namaste, fae

Dear Anne, Yes, take your time with all of this and do not let anyone push you into anything. You definitely need to be comfortable with your decisions. Please let us know as much as you wish to share with us. But no matter how much you share, or where this health road takes you, we are in your corner and holding you in our hearts and prayers. *<twinkles>* fae

Thunderstorms here. (What the heck am I doing writing while there is thunder?) We have been opening, unpacking, sorting boxes of stuff, books, family furniture, art, all sorts of stuff. I can feel heaviness leaving as I toss things, put them in the "garage sale" pile or give them away. Some things, I am keeping. This sorting and clearing has given me a sense of preparing for a new life, preparing for a future that is out there waiting for me, somewhere. What ever it is, when ever it is, where ever it is, I am making space for it every day now as I clear and sort, remember and release. There is a strong sense of reconciliation, of acceptance, that Doug is still here, even if I cannot see him. I know he hears me, I know he knows what I am doing, and sometimes, when I am holding something of his, I ask him if there is any reason to hold on to this or that. Mostly, he says to let it go. I will never lose the memories or the love, but I don't need all this stuff. I know that in the future, I will no doubt pare down further the things I have saved. But for now, I feel good about letting go of his clothing, his boots and shoes, some of his other things. It was hard to let go of his toothbrush, but I did it. He doesn't need it any more. I don't need it either. I think this clearing of "stuff" will be a long process, incrementally releasing things as I feel I no longer need that object to hold on to a feeling or a memory. The wonderful times from before Doug was ill are becoming stronger images than the years of illness. I can laugh more at the memories of goofy stuff we did, and feel empowered by the things we accomplished together. I am healing. Yes, there are still those grief bursts that catch me unaware, but I now can step back and say, "ah, another grief burst, I wonder how long my body will need this release and cleansing" and accept the tears and the pain rising from my heart, knowing that this, too, is a part of where I am today. This is who I am—a person still grieving, but rebalancing daily toward the side of loving and opening to life, while finding a place in my heart big enough for all the love I have for Doug and for his love for me. That is another part of the sorting that is going on: remembering so much that is worth holding forever in my heart, but not in my hands. *<twinkles>* fae

QMary, Oh, thank you for the trip report and the description of listening to the waves from the porch! How very wonderful! On the rotator cuff, it is good to know that you have a good track record on this type of surgery, and you will be in my thoughts and prayers. Can you get some curl enhancer and just wear your hair short, curly, and wash and dry? You have such a pretty face, I'd think must about any hairstyle will look great on you. Welcome "home" here around Marty's healing fire. It is very good to hear your "voice" among us again. *<twinkles>* fae

Oh, Anne, thank you so very much for those beautiful videos. Jim has such an infectious smile. I enjoyed seeing everyone. Thank you.

Yesterday was a day off while the power company changed transformers of something . . . So I took the day off and it was pretty heavenly. I finished my medication, which always causes me to sigh in relief that I can get back to more of this new "normal" — if I ever find what this new normal is going to be. I am feeling a lot better, and have been busy in the office the first part of the week, but since the electricity waould be off, I gave myself the day off and drove up to Freezout Lake, a wildlife area, where I saw many birds, including magpies, Eastern and Western Kingbirds, willets, black-neck stilts, and blue-winged teals. Lots of Canada Geese and American Shovelers. I had a salad and decaf with me, and had a picnic as I admired the life around me. Then I drove over to Benton Lake NWR and saw killdeer chicks and avocet chicks, a beautiful short-eared owl, a magnificent female Harrier, and baby sandpipers, too. The Harrier came and perched in a tree near where I was watching the birds through my field glasses. She finally flew away. Later, at another location, I got out of the car to say a prayer of thanksgiving, and there she was! She hovered right above me for about 5 minutes. I love when these things happen. But what a mix these days have become! A veritable emotional roller coaster, up and down. I find myself crying in gratitude, awe, grief, and I feel my heart opening, never sure where the emotional compass will settle. Doug was so very present today with me as I admired our birds at two of our favorite places. It was also a time of being thankful for our time together, for the love that still sustains me, and for the life of beauty I have, here in the mountains of Montana. I forget sometimes how very blessed I am. I have a new doctor to help guide me through tests and results, although the tests are still coming back fine and clear. I wanted to remove myself from the cancer clinic, and go somewhere that is more about living and less about holding off dying. Also, the cancer clinic here is where Doug spent so very much time the last two years of his life. Every corner, every nuance, is filled with images of him and memories of those times. I needed to remove myself to an environment of more hope, determination, where everyone is not walking around sad and weak. It was truly getting to me in some rather shadowed ways. After I saw the owl yesterday, I sat and thought about owls, wise owls, and how some of them are active day and night, as is the short-eared owl. I realized that I needed to step up my self-advocacy. There is too much of a tendency to ignore or push aside the seniors in our culture. We need to be tough! I am getting tougher. I have a new lab already arranged, I pick up my lab orders from the new doctor next week, and I will proceed to distance myself from the cancer center with its memories and emotional baggage. I am going to try to make it outside every day for the rest of summer, for at least a half hour or so, even if there is not yard work to do. Breathing the fresh air in the forest is very healing. And I think we all need healing, even at this time in our journey. Kay, I hope your weather is as nice as mine is here. This morning, it was in the 50s, with a brisk breeze and only a few little clouds in the sky. So lovely! *<twinkles>* fae

Amen to what Marty said. ^ A good counselor definitely changed my life for the better and helped me to find a better perspective when Doug left.

Jan, I think Pete is with you for this mission about the visitor centre, and I know you rely on his reasoning and his steadying spirit while you are thus engaged. When you feel that structure, that calmness and presence, hold on to it and savor it for as long as you can each time. Let it build a strong memory of how it feels in you. Then, if you are like me, you can carry that feeling into the other parts of your days. Doug and I worked a lot on human rights, especially land rights issues of indigenous people, justice, and fair, equally-applied laws for all people, especially those laws that protect human rights. When I am working on these issues, I can feel Doug's logical presence, and his comments just come into my head. I hold these moments as lights along my Path. I know you do the same with those moments when Pete is most present in your efforts. We are still in trauma, dear Jan. When things begin to look a bit frightening, we jump to a place where we try to find solutions, protection, safety. It is normal and natural to want to protect the status quo when we have lost so very much. Enough change, already! Yes, I know what you mean. Anxiety rises easily and quickly when the calmness of our days and of those we love is threatened. But sometimes, it is only our perception that there is a threat, that there is a chasm. Oftentimes, if we fell off of the tightrope, under us would be a field of flowers. We just cannot see it sometimes, because of the mists and fogs of grief that obscure our vision and skew our perceptions. Beneath us, no matter what is going on, is still the strong love of Pete and Doug, holding us, giving us that safety net of flowers and beauty. When we teeter, I think that is the best time to hold those feelings of reason, normalcy, logic, and safety. I usually stop as soon as I realize what is going on, and take a few deep, cleansing breaths, and relax as much as I am able, and remember that I am safe and protected. It helps to give me a more steady perspective. We are not alone on this journey, and we are deeply loved. {{{hugs}}} *<twinkles>* fae

Thinking of you and waiting for the final report and to hear about your conversation with the doctor. All good thoughts and wishes flow from my heart to yours, dear friend. fae

nattering . . . I can tell I am going through another round of emotional shifting and healing. When I wake up in the morning these last couple of months, I still miss Doug, but the ache in my heart is now softer, and I smile at happy memories more often than I get a stomach ache and begin to cry. The happiest moments seem to well up and remind me of how wonderful it was to live inside the luminous, comforting, and comfortable love we shared. When I wake up now, I am often overcome with gratitude as I remember how wonderfully blessed I am to have had a wonderful husband who not only cherished me, but occasionally challenged me to rise to new levels of awareness, to be open to new adventures, and to have the courage to speak truth to power, all the while having fun playing and exploring and loving together. How did I get so lucky? This present shift is palpable: I can feel the restoring of more of my own internal compass. I can feel more solid ground gathering under me, as if I am being prepared for some major shift, challenge, new adventure. I don't know what is ahead of me, but I find myself these days less scared of a future all alone, and more a bit curious about what my solo days are going to bring to me in the way of beauty, delight, and learning. Some days are still dark, and I still have moments of drowning in painful sadness, longing, and tears. I am learning to be patient with myself through these times. The anxiety attacks are lessening as I am able to stand back from them and acknowledge them, without needing to find a cause for moments of worrying and fear. I just let them slip through me and out of my awareness. I still miss Doug. More than I can say, I miss Doug's voice, his counsel, his playfulness, his loving hugs, and his delightful sense of life. I miss his gentle presence and his prayers of thanksgiving when we would sit at the table. I miss his good night kisses, and holding hands as we fell asleep each night, next to each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other's breaths as we drifted off to dreaming. I don't know yet how my life is going to go on. I cannot yet see any clear future before me, and somehow, making plans is still hard, because it means fully accepting and admitting that Doug is gone from this plane of existence, and that I will be carrying him in my heart here on out, and that if he still has me on belay, and I him, it is a belay of the spirit tied in with lines of love. Memories still fill my heart and mind when I think of him, and all around me are memories. I cherish the memories and accept the longing for my husband as natural, as a part of life's circle of all living things, but the intensity of the longing still surprises me sometimes, when there is something I want to show to him, something I want to tell him, a hug I cannot give or get. But I am thankful for my returning good health, my wonderful friends and Friends, and mostly, I am thankful that Doug left such a richness of memories and love, such beautiful love letters and notes, and so much of himself for me to cherish. We had planned another thirty years together, and I am thankful, even in the midst of this heartache longing, that his spirit is still in my heart, and that I can carry him with me through my days, celebrating our love that is as strong as it ever was. Always. namaste, fae