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Resettling, Renewing after Loss



Life lesson: Keeping busy keeps grieving at bay.

The entire day today was spent becoming reacquainted with my summer home. I migrated yesterday, just dumped everything, and then looked around, wondering where I should start.


The first thing was to have a piece of toast. My neighbor left a loaf of sourdough bread for me. I can’t find the toaster. How many cupboards can a toaster hide in? Dog didn’t know either.


Then it seemed like a good idea to cook an egg to go with the toast. I couldn’t find the frying pans. I had just looked in every cupboard. It would seem I would have spotted frying pans. There was just an empty space where the toaster used to be.


Surely someone didn’t break in last winter and steal all of my frying pans.


I decided I could fry an egg in one of the sauce pans. I don’t know any rules about that and no one seemed to be patrolling outside to tell me otherwise, so it seemed a safe thing to do.


Fortunately, I found the sauce pans right away.


Now I just have to search out a spatula, a fork and a knife.


How could the house be so unfamiliar after just a few months? True, last winter was a blur. My spouse died at the beginning of the summer, so it may have been two years since I have been here with any alertness.


That seems like too much to sort out after packing, traveling and unpacking all in one day.


The smartest thing that occurred to me at that point was to go to bed and get some rest.


So dog and I went to bed very early.


The predictable outcome from going to bed early is waking up early. At 2 AM, the dog wants to go out. She can’t go out by herself here. She has to have a full harness and reliable leash. I can’t go traipsing around at 2 o’clock in the morning without appropriate attire. She is impatient waiting for me to get dressed. So there we go. She gets her job done, and now I’m awake.


Maybe if I put one box away, I can settle back in bed?


One box went pretty well, then another, and another. Pretty soon one entire stack of boxes had disappeared into the same cupboards that had eaten my toaster and frying pans. Then another stack found its way into drawers and closets.


Maybe that’s the secret to resettling. Maybe I have to sneak up on it. Do it before realizing what is going on.


Dog kept telling me it was time to rest, so we went to the chair. Predictably, we fell asleep for a good while.


The rest of the day seemed to progress without major mishaps.


Dog rediscovered at least 30 important stations on our walks that needed to be visited. Messages were diligently left. She was a happy dog.


The Internet people were able to find the house after several phone calls. The house was where I had left it last year, so they were successful, and their job didn’t take long.


The day went by in a flash. Dog kept reminding me to take a rest break. I listen to her. She is getting smarter every day.


That seems to be a major key in re-entering the world. I find I succumb to grief episodes at the slightest provocation when I am tired.


I don’t know what is going on out there. I do know I have the house in pretty good shape. My neighbors are coming tomorrow to help with chores that need a ladder. I don’t do that anymore.


Dog and I may go to bed early again. Who knows what we may discover at 2 AM again? Hopefully it won't be a bear, like we discovered one year.


Let me know how you are doing. I care.


Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke


© 2023 Our New Chances

Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau

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