irish lake in a mist

Setting Free Those Captive Seasons By A Lake

That mound of humanity had been a desire of mine for years, and fear of being so far away from everything I had ever known lured me, and so I spent 6 years within that gigantic multicultural opportunity driven metropolis until I met Tim. What he found was a sad and lonely drunk wallowing in her grief, I was an easy mark, and so began … Continue reading Setting Free Those Captive Seasons By A Lake

Carpenters Workshop - thetemenosjournal.com

The 21st: Before The Dawn Of Simplicity

Progressing through these posts, one by one, with a little trepidation, and reading each only maybe twice through, first to read and then again to fix the most garish mistakes and not touch them again, after adding my two cents, or a dollar’s worth.  Of these days of early spring I do recall but hazily, as consumed was my mind on that leaving of a … Continue reading The 21st: Before The Dawn Of Simplicity

Leaving Day

I know grief, its pit in the stomach, its hollow insides, its anxiety, its tears, its unexpectedness, and that’s how I know that this feeling is grief. I know it’s inability to eat cause of the sick feeling in your stomach, the drifting mindless from room to room, documentary to movie to Hallmark crap Movie on YouTube, lost in a fog. I know it’s out-of-place … Continue reading Leaving Day

My New Outside Pad

The Gnarl of Beauty in its new home

It was just one thousand, four hundred and seventy-five days. That’s all there were. Just now, whilst re-arranging my closet, I came across another reminder of those last days of Tim’s life. Some sort of bed liners that the palliative Nurse had given us, and for some insane reason I’d saved the stupid things. Crazy really, but I suppose it’s my Grandma in me not wanting stuff … Continue reading The Gnarl of Beauty in its new home

One by One: a year later

A year ago today, I wrote this – One by One [published: Oct. 31, 2012] I had been blogging 5 days. It was just me and Irish, alone at the Lake, in our little cottage. I was experiencing a profound grief. Tim’s death had been so much different than hers. So many different emotions, experiences, thoughts, and the circumstances. The grief was even different. Tim … Continue reading One by One: a year later