Long rough year
Lynne lost her battle with brain cancer Saturday May 17th. I wasn't at home. One of the things that Lynne so wanted to do before she left was go to the Oregon coast, but she never made it. My family lives 45 minutes from the Oregon coast. I had an unexplainable desire to go visit, but was torn due to the fact that we knew Lynne was close to leaving. The picture above was taken on Saturday May 17th in the afternoon. Lynne left us that night at 11:45. I said good-bye to her standing on that beach, tears running down my face and I heard a little voice inside, "Don't be crying for me, enjoy the day" (She hated tears). It is so very hard to believe that she is gone. She will be so terribly missed.
When I stop to think about all that has happened this year it is almost unbearable. It's been a year since things started with a huge family disappointment that I have been having problems getting over (it hurt me more than I realized), loss of our youngest horse, Raven, Lynne's brain cancer, surgeries and battle, my daughter's shattered dream of working in Japan (but she's working on getting another job there), the loss of my husbands job and my job, another disappointment from a life-long friend (or so I thought), my mother-in-laws brain tumor and death, my mother's battle with Alzheimer's and the knowing that we will have to let our oldest horse go before the winter comes this year.
But there have been some good things this year also. New friends, one being my 'boss' at the frame shop, she has also been through a lot of loss and sorrow this year. My artwork - has been selling great this year, I was in one juried show and have been juried into another which will run the month of July, two art shows coming up soon, one in June another in August. Laughing and spending time with Lynne and C this last year.
So I am trying to keep my spirits up and think of all the good that has happened this year but sometimes I just seem to be dragging. Sometimes it is a battle to get myself into the studio to get anything done, search for a job, or go into work. I just want to lay down and pull the covers over my head and cry.
posted by Jonna at 8:38 AM
5 Comments:
I am sorry for your loss. It is good that you can also dwell on the good things. I just wanted to say thank you for visiting me.
Sorry for your loss Jonna...you know the ocean has a strange way of healing....Love ya! Sarah
I think pulling the covers over your head and crying is a sane response to sadness. it's part of our need to go inward, into the cave, into the soul.
At the same time, standing at the intersection of everything (the ocean) is the counterbalance to that urge.
One of the reasons I love reading the blogs of fellow artists, especially those who, like me, make art in addition to doing other jobs, that is, those of us who must perform a lot of balancing, is that I see, over the course of many entries, that balance is achieved. The key to us all, of course, rests in the hand that opens the door to the studio.
For what it's worth: cry when you gotta, stop when you must.
alicia
You've had a helluva year! I'm glad there's been joy mixed in with all of the loss and sorrow. Any one of those things would take a long time to recover from. Be gentle with yourself and others. You'll need time. Take care.
jonna, i join my hands to the others in the circle of love that surrounds you. love, karen
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