Life lesson: Life is always evolving.
My neighborhood is dying. Not physically. The homes are still well-maintained, but our connection is slipping away.
We have had a tight-knit group. My grief partner’s husband would host a block party around Christmas time, to ensure we all stayed in touch and to provide an opportunity to socialize.
That stopped when he became ill a few years ago, then he died at about the same time as my spouse.
I was planning to host the block party to continue the togetherness. I was hoping I could pull it off in that I had progressed far enough in my grieving process to be able to brave the social gathering. I knew everyone would pitch in to help, we just needed someone to organize it.
Now that I have re-entered life a little, I find my neighborhood has been slipping away.
My next-door neighbor who I was friends with since I moved back, and even before, died several years ago. Her home now sits empty. Her daughter visits a couple of times a year and we have had issues.
My neighbor across the street has a serious medical condition. She is a young woman and possibly won’t survive. She has small children.
My grief partner just sold her house and has to vacate in a few weeks. It was just too big for her and quite costly to maintain. She had to sell it. It was the right decision.
My other two neighbors have had visitors engulfing them endlessly.
This has all become such a hassle.
Working to re-emerge into life, a life formerly unknown, is not only sad, but frightening.
How many doors are looming? Do I open a door or retreat? The unknown, which can’t be predicted, either offers a chance or no chance at all. Will this be one of the Pots of Promise?
I keep telling myself I have to be patient. I need to see what situations present themselves. I should gather up confidence so that I can deal with whatever evolves.
Wouldn’t it be comfortable to retreat into a nice soft cocoon?
Changes keep happening. Life isn't static. I have to conjure up some determination in order to meet them head on.
Let me know how you are doing. I care.
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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau
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