I wake up every morning happy. It takes me a few seconds to remember that you are gone and that you are never coming back.
I cry.
I sometimes ask God why.
I talk to you up in heaven like you are here and ask you to come back. 
 I get dressed. I take KD Puppy out. Thank God for her. 
Then I go to work, or I go and do whatever plans Ive made, trying to hold myself together the best that I can.
I have pockets of a few minutes each day where its just normal, not grieving me. 
The rest of the day, I spend thinking about how you would have loved this little meal, this little conversation. How even if we were not together, which was rare, I would have enjoyed telling you about it later.
I hate being alone.
I hate being with other people.
I hate being away from home.
I hate being home. 
Each day I hope that tomorrow wont be quite as bad.
I go to bed early, hoping that I can conjure you up in sleep. I hug my pillows and blankets like I used to hug you all night. 
I fall asleep from exhaustion. 
​I wake up every morning happy, It takes me a few seconds to remember that you are gone and that you are never coming back.  

Peter was visiting. He still lived in Binghamton. We were in my house. The house that I was in throughout my marriage that had ended a while back. It was a happy house, but it had become a sad house. There is no other way to really explain it. 
At that time I was hoping to still be able to afford the house and make it a happy place again. 
So, prior to Peter's visit I had gotten this idea about stringing some solar lights in the backyard. I loved sitting out back, and thought that would be a lovely touch out there. We went to the store together, picking out a couple of beautiful lights that looked like flowers, and then some others to string around the deck and the bushes. It was fun shopping with him. He had a way of making everything magical. In the beginning, I used to think that he was just trying trying to entertain me to ease my broken heart. I later learned, no, that's just Peter. 
Anyway, we picked up a few things, and he planned to put these things up while I was at work on that Saturday. I came home to find :
He had my favorite music playing.
He had a beautiful table set.
He had my favorite wine chilling. 
A delicious dinner in the oven. 
And then. He brought me outside, first putting his hands over my eyes. He removed his hands to show me the most beautiful backyard I had ever seen.My entire backyard was alive with lights. Lights around the trees, bushes. He put up a candle chandelier that I had in storage, hung it from a big tree and had candles burning from it. He had gone back and bought out the store in wrapping lights, and picked up more flower lights that fit in with the scheme we had planned. 
This will always be one of the most special memories and one of the most romantic nights of my life. 

My grandmother died a long time ago. A really long time ago. I was blessed with inheriting her beautiful china set. Its a full set and includes dessert dishes and teacups. It is in pink and yellow, and trimmed in gold. I love the idea of my aunts and uncles and all of our extended family having used these beautiful dishes over the years. It makes me feel connected to my grandparents and others who have passed. Family china. It means so much to me. And happens to be in exactly my taste, which is a nice bonus. 
When my grandmother died, I was too young to be hosting any dinners, and until fairly recently, I wasn't much of a cook. The china was packed and stored in my basement in various apartments until I bought my house. "OK. Now I get to use the china!" 
Except I didn't. We kept the good silverware, china, and special glasses put away for just the right occasion. For the fifteen years that I lived in that house, I never used it once. 
Peter came in to my life at the end of my divorce. I was sorting out my house, and I had a big job of downsizing from a four bedroom house to a two bedroom loft. He helped me go through everything and helped me with some difficult decisions about what to keep. So, one night, going through boxes, we came across the china. After ten minutes of me rambling on about how much I loved it and what it meant to me, Peter said, "lets use this tonight for dinner." 
It was like being set free! Out came the crystal glasses, the amazing silverware. A hand-painted water pitcher and glasses from Italy. Flowers and candles on the table. I don't remember what we ate that night, but I remember sitting there thinking, "all of these years. These exquisite things sat in boxes in the dark. " 
We pledged there and then that we would use all of the beautiful things, all of the time. Every day. We make a simple meal beautiful. We don't have to wait for a special Veuve Cliquot night to use the good champagne glasses. Korbel Brut Rose tastes just lovely out of the same glass. We don't wait for lobster or caviar to use the dishes. A nice veggie stir-fry looks and tastes fantastic with the dishes and silver. 
The day that my mother told us that all of these things could go in the dishwasher was like icing on the cake! And you know what, if something breaks, so what. At least it will have been used and loved. And not wrapped in a box in the dark.  
So wear that special dress, carry that special handbag. Even if its just to the movies. Or make an occasion, go to the Giacomo , and order a special glass of wine and look at the spectacular view of the falls. Or take those special plates and a lovely tablecloth and have a beautiful dessert picnic at the park by the water. 
We dont know how many years that we have on this earth,but I can assure you, we will spend them making each day as special as possible. We use the good china. 

I am not going to address my two year hiatus from writing. Well, I will. But in little stories that come out here and there. I am not going to write a long "catch up," or update. It will be pretty clear from my writing that things have changed an awful lot in the last couple of years. A move. A love. A puppy. Lots of new friends. And lots and lots of adventures. I haven't been "sleeping at life" during my hiatus from writing. Rather, I have probably lived more adventures in these last two years than I have at any other point in my life. But I don't have to tell them all at once. 

The brilliant Peter Kelleher+me.                   Bridge at Canalfest photo by Richard Gleason              KD Puppy

The format of this blog is not going to change. Its going to be me writing about whatever I feel like writing about, whenever I feel like writing. I hope you will join me in jumping back in the water. I love to swim, and I hate to swim alone. 

I started the book. 

I have had the bones of it in my head since midsummer.  But then incredibly interesting stuff just kept happening. Stories that just had to be in there.  I knew that I could go on like this forever. The voice in my head kept saying,” FORTHELOVEOFGOD. Just write it.  You can write another book with this additional material.”  But it felt related, all part of one continuous story. 

The book is about my incredible Alice in Wonderland type journey over the last year or so.  How I kind of lost myself, found myself again, and the amazing cast of characters that I encountered along the way. Adventures I never could have imagined. People and situations I could not possibly have dreamed up if I wanted to.  

I kept thinking that at some point there would be a pause or a logical stopping point. And suddenly, I knew. Today is the day.  I started.  It flowed.  I put a lot down.  I really, really, got started.  And now, I can’t wait to write more. 
 

I put this as my status update on Facebook: “I started the book.  Some of you are in it.” 

I laughed a bit as I typed it.  I wondered how many people would wonder whether or not they were going in the book.  Mostly, people who have crossed my path over the last year were pretty amazing, in the best possible way. I can also imagine just a couple of people turning white as a ghost upon reading that sentence.  I must admit I am human enough to relish the thought just a tiny bit. I will paraphrase a quote that I read somewhere:   "If you wanted to look better in the book, you should have been nicer to me.”  (*Side note: I was unsuccessful in finding the author of this quote, so if you know, please tell me) The good news about this past year is that the people who treated me poorly in any way are only minor or incidental characters to my story.  They may or may not make the cut.  They certainly did not make the cut remaining in my “real life.”

The truth?  I only know for certain that two specific people are going to be in the book.  Those two people are spectacular humans. The rest will reveal itself as I write it.  I am feeling wildly curious to see who makes an appearance! This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime.  I can't wait to take you all with me.