...to continue...

I have a dog now.  A six year old Beagle taken from a shelter.  

Sitting on the couch one night I realized that I would not make it through the winter alone.  A companion, another wife, I did not feel was an option.  Before my wife died, she had encouraged me to get a dog - as a family we had many dogs and cats.  My dog had died three years earlier, but I did not get another because of my wife's health.  And then, of course, she encouraged my daughters to prevail upon me that a dog would be good for me.  

Well, the dog is good for me.  She distracts me from the real problem of my life.  But, she does not solve the problem.

I cannot speak clearly to my children of the problem, the darkness, the barren place, that I have entered.  I do want to hurt them.  The other reason is that I would mention it often.  I do not let such realities go, or they do not let me go.  This has always been my approach to life, looking at the good or the not good, equally.  The children, now adults, however, do not understand, or do not face purposely, that darkness I face, and it is just as well.  I would not bring it on them because it can be suffocating.

My oldest daughter keeps daily tabs on me.  She, who kept tabs on her younger sisters and brothers.  My wife told her to watch out for me as well since she knew my temperament.  Still, I do not speak the barrenness that I feel without my wife to my daughter.

I found after my wife's death that most women are truely nurturers and want you, a male, to live, will act to support you in small or larger ways so that you will live.

I always lived in a semi-darkness, but the love and support of my wife kept me walking in the light.  I always had the problem.  I, with some religious faith, (developed later in life), had not solved the problem, because the darkness still existed and the question of death was not answered satisfactorily so that I could accept death.  I did not accept death.

As a creative person, first connecting with God as the creator, my creator, feeling the semblance to myself, not through a religion, but through my personal education in art, my personal creative activity.

I do not accept the death of love.  I do not accept the death of such beauty.  I do not accept death.

The above is irrational, but, I, as a creator, think, sense, that I am irrational, as the creation is irrational, the creator, my God the creator.

A dog is not enough.

Create.

Death in the fast lane...

Obviously, no posting since August means I am very slow posting.  And this makes the blog not very interesting.

I'm still in the slow lane, unfortunately, trying to regain my balance since my wife and supporter of many years died this past February.  Her death, her loss, has become heavier to bear rather than easier - and the encouragement by many to "move on," things will get better with time, seem absurd to me.  Many, of course, wish the best for me after her death, some having been through it themselves.

I have at least made positive cosmetic changes to my webpage.  And I am now involved in some computer maintenance which I have no talent for.

Writing has been very slow, with a focus on my wife's death, death itself, the loss, my loss, and the barrenness that her death has left for me.  Although I have known of death as a serious threat to myself since the age of four, yes, I did say four, and carried it with me since that time, her death makes death more real than I could understood or have imagined.  This is finality, the silence that surpasses understanding.

To make my situation worse, I am an introvert, who likes being alone, which has helped my creative work, and this means thought, thinking, questioning, reaching into the darkness, and nothingness - or a life after this one which becomes a doubt when such a good person is hurt so, dies.

So I walk slowly, looking into the darkness, not looking away.  This is not romantic.  Understand that.  This is not romantic.

I will continue to seek to create.