I think not having the stress of a house in Orlando has been good for me. I seem to have more time and energy to focus elsewhere. I feel more relaxed inside my skin.
In the studio, I'm finding more of my creative self coming back, which is a welcome change. I knew this would come back, I knew my emotional self would work it's way through my art, but I wasn't expecting such an avalanche of new ideas coming into my head. The hard part is now patiently working my way through the process of making them into sculptures. Or maybe this is really the fun part. I do know I feel excited about my work again and this is a good thing.
I've started going through some of your things. Just a little bit at a time. Sort of testing the waters with crates of medical records and insurance papers before I move on to more scary places. I threw away every last piece of paper related to your illness. I didn't realize how angry I was until I started stuffing them in a trash bag. Damn, damn cancer and all we have lost to it. It was easy to let go of a pile of papers that represented a nightmare. However,going through your clothes and personal papers may require a sturdy heart and a long afternoon. I don't think I'm there quite yet, but maybe I'm getting closer. At least I don't get such a stabbing feeling when I open the wrong drawer and see your pajamas in a neat little pile. It's more of a dull thud and an small smile to remember you in pink pajamas.
It's small, but it's progress. Grief is an incredibly exhausting process of very small steps, but I do see a small ray of light at the very end of the tunnel.
I miss you