Deep Thoughts. Or Not

My last few posts have been more think pieces than my usual diary-like posts as I tried to figure out the truth of what is going on, but today, there isn’t a single thought in my head. Not a deep thought. Not a silly thought. Just . . .

It’s been a pleasant day so far, but I’m not sure it has anything to do with thinking, overthinking, or no thinking. It’s more a matter of having accomplished something.

I’d ordered some summer bulbs a few months ago, thinking my garage would be done by now and I could start landscaping, but nope. Not a single wall has gone up. Even worse, the yard is cluttered with building materials, the things that are supposed to stored in the garage, a metal carport that has already been traded but not yet taken away, and leftovers from the fence and other projects.

Still, the bulbs were just sitting in their packing materials, probably crying out for the sun, so I found a place for them in the yard that won’t be in the way of the workers when/if they ever show up.

I even connected a hose to the front yard water faucet, which is not as easy as it might seem. In fact, last fall when I tried to connect a hose, water spewed all over the place. Enough came through the hose that I was able to water the bulbs I’d just planted. (Some of which recently peeked above the ground, saw who was going to take care of them, and committed hari-kari instead of waiting for my ignorance to do the job for them. Others didn’t even bother checking to see what was going on.) Today, I cleaned the rust from the nozzle with Vaseline, and then the nozzle screwed on.

Such excitement, right?

I hope your day is as pleasant as mine is.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

3 Responses to “Deep Thoughts. Or Not”

  1. rami ungar the writer Says:

    So far, so good. Worked from home, had a call with a coworker where we made each other laugh while discussing business. Now I’m doing laundry and seeing what’s online that I missed. Might do some writing or writing-related work this afternoon, and I hope to watch a scary movie tonight.
    Also, some philosophers would say you accomplishing something without having to think too deeply about it, or at all, is something to aspire to. Which I’m jealous of, because I can’t deal with silence unless I’m trying to sleep, and my brain’s always awake, but whatever.
    Anyway, I’m rambling. Hope the bulbs turn out nice.

  2. Estragon Says:

    A possible deep thought, or not….
    The truth about truth is there is no objective truth. There is only a view of truth uniquely ours as seen from our limited individual perspective. We need to actively seek alternative views to overcome our well-documented tendency to do otherwise (confirmation bias).

    For example, my truth is you didn’t even exist in any practical sense from my perspective until I started reading your blog a day or two ago and even now only exist to the extent I’ve understood what I’ve read of your writing. I will not exist for you unless/until you read this and then only to the extent of this comment.

    My wife died suddenly at the end of January, which is what prompted me to read parts of this blog. She now exists only as a simulacra of memories, memorabilia, etc. for me. Learning that it gets worse in the second year isn’t easy but I have to understand the situation as it is, not as I’d like it to be.

    FWIW

    • Pat Bertram Says:

      I am so very sorry about your wife. As you said, one of the hardest things about dealing with such a loss is understanding — and feeling — the situation as it is and not as we’d like it to be. That is why the second year can be worse — the initial effects of grief that protect us in some way from a deeper realization of the loss have passed, and we are faced with the bare truth. They are gone from our earthly lives, and there is not a single thing we can do to change the situation.

      Another hard thing to deal with is when those memories begin to fade or rather, stop taking up so much space in your heart. It feels like a second death.

      I hope you will read more of my grief posts, especially those I wrote during the first year. (If you haven’t already, you can find them https://bertramsblog.com/archives-grief-posts/). The loss of a spouse is so devastating and so devastatingly lonely that it sometimes helps to read of another’s persons experience. (The way it was, not the way I wanted it to be.)

      All of this is hard. My heart goes out to you.


Please leave a comment. I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: