My last blog was on January 5, 2023 and December 2022 was sporadic. I have been rather listless and unwilling to write anything even though it has nothing to do with lack of ideas. It is a combination of the weather, the winter darkness and a grief at the loss of my Rosemary on December 9 2020 that is not better today January 21, 2023.
The Christmas season was especially sad. I spent Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve alone. My January 5 blog touched on it.
Then there are my cats Niño & Niña. They may be going through the same problem of the weather and the darkness and may even sense my melancholy. When I am on the bed they immediately get on me and stay. When I think that perhaps I might go to my oficina and write a blog, I look at their faces and stay scanning the bad news in my New York Times or sporadically read a few chapters of the books on my night table.
In the last few days I have come with a new name for my
Rosemary. She was the Rock of Gibraltar of the family. She kept us together.
With her loss my family of two daughters, two
granddaughters and son-in-law are distant with the exception of Hilary
with whom I talk every day and see at least twice a week. I don't see Alexandra often because she lives in Lillooet and the road was so bad over Christmas she was not able to be with us.
Not helping my situation is that I seem to be losing friends through death and a fading friendship. I am trying to make new friends.
As evidence on the importance of my Rosemary, is my almost failed copy of her little books where she wrote her notes. She would cross out stuff accomplished. My contribution to my green notebook is sporadic. I put the groceries I need to buy in it but the most important action for me is to list my blog ideas.
I had to begin eventually. Where should I start?
My friend Nora Patrich’s mother Leah (she is in her 90s), when she helped her son Sergio at the Patrich Gallery on Granville, would offer me very good coffee. I had to be careful where I put my empty cup once I finished or she would tell me, “Todo en su lugar es el órden.” This translates to, “Everything in its place is order.” Rosemary was not that extreme but she kept diaries and those notebooks by her bedside. She knew what she had to do at all times.
Now I have to manage on my own.
I am trying.