art, creativity, grief, loss, Love Lives On, moving forward, openness, Photograph by Ken Gehle, Photography, Products, transformation, widow
The last decade has involved quite a bit of figuring out who I am now. Any time we have a big loss in our lives we eventually come to this point: who am I now that my children are no longer at home, who am I now that I no longer work in my previous occupation, who am I now that now that I will not have my own biological children? The list is endless. The evolution of who I am today even after being widowed has had its twists and turns. Leaving a corporate job that no longer fit. Remarriage and figuring out the role of bonus mom. My children growing up and leaving home to live their own lives. Even my pottery avocation has shifted and evolved into a bigger part of my vocation. I’ve talked about vocation some before. These days I still lead the widow social support group but we’ve added a co-leader so it’s not all on me. I spend more time in the pottery studio than out of it (when there’s not a pandemic, that is). I’m finding a new balance and a new me. There is an equilibrium that, if you’d asked me 10 years ago, I would have told you I would likely never experience again. So how did I find that equilibrium? Interesting question to consider. There was no one technique that did the trick. I’ve had some great coaches and mentors. There has been some natural evolution in my work life (nothing is constant but change, as they say.) I’ve done values surveys to try to figure out what...
fly fishing, grief, living forward, memories, moving forward, Photograph by Tamara Beachum, Remembering, saudade
Well, that was a tangled mess. Somehow I’d managed to get my fishing line wrapped around itself in a knot that reminded me of the tangles I used to get in my hair as a child. I sat down on the bank with our fly fishing guide as he cut line and retied flies. Watching him use the clamp and clippers dangling from his vest, I had a flash of memory of watching Ken in similar motion. “You have two kids?” I asked, suddenly thinking about fathers. “Two boys, 19 months and 5 weeks.” The second son had been injured during childbirth. Nothing too serious but painful for the little guy. We talked about nursing; it’s the only thing that soothes him. His wife has struggled more with the demands after this birth. I told him about my own nursing experience as a new mom and the time the young man fishing downstream seemed to have turned me into his own personal pacifier. How hard it was and how important at the same time. “Sometimes you feel like you just need five minutes of the old you,” I said. “I can understand that,” he replied. His wife had agreed that he needed some time to go fishing when she was safely harbored in the hospital. He took an hour and caught 30 fish in that same spot. He was fully himself in that moment. My son created his own tangle so the guide left me holding my partially repaired line and went to help him. Our conversation had given me a glimpse back to that early life when the...
art, close up, creativity, grief, landscape, letting go, loss, Love Lives On, memories, moving forward, Photograph by Ken Gehle, Photography, Products, widow
There is so little that is untouched, five years later; not much is as he left it. His studio has new occupants. The photography equipment - other than his camera that is now mine - has been sold. It has taken me all this time to finally find the will to begin the process of updating his website. This too is a letting go. Other than the cover page, I have made no changes. Technology does not wait. When he died he carried a first generation iPhone. These days, pulling up his website on a phone or iPad, which didn’t even exist at the time, results in nothing…a blank screen. I’ve had to start pointing people to the limited selection of photos in his online portfolio that was not meant for showcasing fine art prints. There is an odd noise coming from the computer he used to manage the site. The software it was created in is totally unfriendly and beyond my computer skills. Ironic, when I think back to the days when I first taught him how to use a computer. So change continues as it will. I have to move along with it. The first small improvement I made was behind the scenes but has begun to stem the tide of daily spam that has been an overwhelming problem for too long. Now the stage is set for converting the site to something that actually works to keep his work in the world. Ken was an award-winning photographer who had National ADDYs to his credit, the advertising industries’ equivalent of an Academy Award. It would break...
children, grief, landscape, moving forward, Photograph by Tamara Beachum
This is the overwhelming thought that I have these days: “You are missing so much.” Life events, big and small still occur. A problem with which we had long struggled is slowly beginning to resolve. Decisions are made. The lives of our children are beginning to take shape as they become young adults. We go off on new adventures. I see your influence. I hear your voice (and sometimes I choose not to listen.) We continue to live and I wouldn’t have that any other way. “He knows,” I’ve been told. “He’s still with you,” they say. Maybe that’s right. I don’t know yet and, frankly, neither do they. I’ll hope for that but in the meantime I can’t help but think of all you are missing. Does this phrase resonate with you? I’d love to know. Leave a comment in the box below....
gratitude, grief, moving forward, transformation
I am so pleased to announce the re-launch of my website. It has been quite an effort over the last month to get to this point but such a joy to channel my creative efforts in this way. And now it is finally ready for the big reveal! An unexpected technical issue precipitated the need to make some changes to the site but it also offered me an opportunity to consider what I wanted it to be now. Basically, my website got sick and I had to take some time to nurse it back to health. It came through transformed. Sounds a lot like life, doesn’t it? My goal with this new website is to provide you with inspiration and make it easier to find ways of living forward after loss that work for you. I have tried to make it more visually appealing and a true reflection of my voice. I hope that comes across. One of the new features of the site is the ability to schedule a creative grief support session with me directly through the website. This also includes a new free 30 minute “Get to Know You” session if you aren’t sure what path you want to take. (Rest assured, I still answer the phone though.) I would like to thank some amazing people who helped me with this site: Rob Granholm over at IT Arsenal did all the back-end web stuff that was over my pay grade leaving me free to take on the creative aspects. Penny Treese designed my logo and loaned me a digital copy of her beautiful encaustic painting....
grief, Motivational poster, moving forward, Photograph by Ken Gehle, Photography, Quote
My husband died on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in 2010. Years like this I live through the day twice, once on the eighteenth and again on MLK day. This year was the fifth anniversary of his death. I wanted to write about it - to process all that I was feeling - for a week before and for days after. But the words wouldn’t come. I took a stroll through some of the images of our children that he has taken over the years. This one of our son flying through the air struck me and called to mind a quote I have referred to quote often. Sometimes I crawl but always I keep moving...
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