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January 1, 2013

Reflection on Recovery

So much for good intentions.
I plan an apt post for New Year.
I visualise the photos I want to use in a reflective essay.
I scour my files for them and note their vital statistics.
I'll get this started on Christmas Day and give myself plenty of time, I think to myself, knowing how the last few busy months have made regular blogging almost impossible.

As I gather in the events and feelings that have made this year memorable for me, I realise that far from treading water - as it feels in the passing - I have met challenges and progressed through emotional healing, while getting on with the quite ordinary business of Life.

This time last year I was celebrating New Year in the jet stream, somewhere high above the Indian Ocean after a month spent in England and Northern Ireland. In a post I wrote on  arrival home - Leaving - I mentioned the sense of having re-set my emotional clock. 

How much did that matter? Did it make a difference in the grand scheme of things? Whatever, 2012 has certainly been a better year for me than 2011 was.  The gradual process of redevelopment associated with Canterbury's Earthquake rebuild feels like a metaphor for my own recovery from Bereavement. Some processes speed ahead while others stall after promising beginnings, and others make no apparent advances at all.  But overall, there is a feeling that the deep grief, the incapacity to function normally, the urge to pack up and leave, is behind us - and me.

I have noticed that over the past three months the fog that impaired my mental function has lifted. I realise how little I had been taking in - not just people's names but people's faces and identities; how I shied away from accountability - hoping someone else would know what needed doing better than me; how technical detail was too much to understand - hampering learning about any new equipment; how lethargy, tiredness and lack of motivation made three acres and two high maintenance old houses more than I could cope with. Around the second anniversary of Elwin's death in November, I noticed a return of interest in managing and planning projects. This was such a relief especially as I actually started working in the garden. I also noticed that I no longer felt 'widowed' which isn't to say that I didn't feel the loss because the yearning for Elwin's company seemed stronger than ever as I was able to gradually remember what life had been like before Death.

In spite of that fog though, there has been plenty to be pleased about throughout this year. My children, acknowledging their own growth through adversity and continuing to shine in their Drama activities. Opening my online Etsy shop - Dunedin Street - and making international sales! Making myself a new personal space in a re-vamped bedroom, and making landscaping improvements around the Secret Garden. 

Right now though as the Midnight stroke draws near I am cursing both my computer and Blogger, knowing that there are reasons for and answers to annoying glitches (a little screen that disables my text while it asks me if I want to log in again - over and over again) and after all that preparation with photos a week ago, I still cannot post them.   So this is a wordy essay not just about the past year, but a continuing chapter in recording my passage through bereavement. 

Time now to let the Old Year out of the back door and the New Year in at the Front with a glass of something to toast you all.

Happy New Year! 


rusty duck said...

This feels slightly strange - writing to you in 2013 with my feet still firmly in 2012. But our time will come in less than 12 hours.

Wishing you all the best for the New Year Jeneane. I'm glad the fog is clearing for you, and that you can look back and look forward with a greater sense of peace.

Take care, Jx

John Gray said...

I look forward to read your blogs entries in 2013
Take care xxx

Joanne Noragon said...

It takes as long as it takes, but you sound as if you're past the fog. Happy new year, although we're still just nearing lunch on new year's eve.

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

rusty duck: I confess to perverse delight in blogging from the leading edge of Time. In your last sentence you have summed up perfectly the stage I have reached. Thank you. Peace and ease of progress to you this year :-)

John Gray: I only hope I can solve the photo problem :-/ Looking forward to visiting Trelawnyd later in the year!

Joanne Noragon: The loss will always be with us won't it, but it is good to feel that my brain works again. I'm writing this at breakfast time on New Year's Day. All the best for the year ahead :-)

Susan Heather said...

Happy New Year to you.

Dyk Jewell said...

Happy New Year Jeneane.
I hope 2013 is a good one for you and the girls.

Dyk & Noreen

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Susan Heather: Thank you and all the best to you too :-)

Dyk Jewell: I'm sure it will be - we have so much planned between us. Speaking of which, shouldn't I be packing for the Morris Tour? Love and best wishes to you both and family too. xx

Cro Magnon said...

I wonder if New Year should also mean New Computer. It sounds as if you have a nasty virus that is stopping your upload. You could download Malwarebytes' Anti-Malware, run the programme, and it will tell you if you have a problem. It will also remove anything nasty; it's free.

Very best wishes, Cro xx

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Gosh thanks Cro. That's very helpful.
New computer? That was one of my big steps forward in 2012!

libby said...

I am glad to read that you feel the fog lifted a little this last year...onwards and upwards LM x

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Thanks Libby - Onwards and Upwards indeed. The same to you:-)

Geo. said...

My best wishes to you for a productive and happy new year.

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Many thanks Geo and the same to you and that fertile mind of yours too :-)

John Gray said...

I have a confession
It was a google image and not my plate x

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

I did wonder :-)

The Sagittarian said...

You have a fabulous way with words, Lady M! Belated Happy New Year to you, and it seems as if it will be. Cheers ears.

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Thank you Saj. I hope you are managing to feel some of this emotional progress too. You know, I thought that I was over grieving for the loss of buildings and landscape and could just drive through the City with a 'gee whiz' outlook. Not so today - that familiar clutch of the heart muscle as I drove past the railway station reduced to a pile of rubble since I last passed by.