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I’m going to write up an entire blog post about this book. It may be one of the best books I’ve read in a long, long time. It’s a memoir by Pat Conroy (an author I’ve long admired). He died a year or so ago – sad, that. In order to get the most out of My Reading Life, I recommend you BUY THE HARDBACK. I can’t say enough good things about this book. It’s an autobiography of sorts, but not really. He never wrote one, I don’t think, and I doubt he would ever have written one as he likely didn’t believe anyone would want to read about his (sad) life. In this memoir, he chronicles the books (and the people who recommended them) that influenced his life. Starting at his mother’s knees and continuing through influential teachers and mentors and friends. One of my book clubs read it, and I devoured it, cover to cover, with little plastic flags inserted all the way through to re-read some of the prose. Pat Conroy was a fabulous writer – he studied words from a young age and used them widely and wisely throughout his writing, but better than most authors would. He adored his mother, and hated (with venom) his aviator military father who physically abused everyone in the family, including his mother. They all took it like stoic Buddhas. I’m going to have to read Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward, Angel because of reading this book. I’ve never read it. Conroy says that book’s first page is the best first page of any book he ever read in his life. Wow. And maybe my book group is going to re-read Tolstoy’s War and Peace (Vintage Classics) too because of the chapter on that book. We might have to assign that to a 2-month or longer read. If you have friends or family who are avid readers, this would make a great gift, this book, My Reading Life. If YOU are a reader, it needs to be on your bookshelf, but in hardback, so you can go back to it and re-read his stories. It’s a series of essays, each one about a sub-section of his life. A must-have and a must-read.

Also read The Towers of Tuscany by Carol Cram. It was a bargain book through amazon or bookbub (e-book). Back in the Middle Ages women were forbidden to be artists. Their only place was in the home, caring for children and sewing and cooking. But the heroine in this book was taught to paint by her widowed artist-father (in secret, of course). When her father suddenly dies, all hell breaks loose and she must fend for herself. Much of the book takes place in Florence as she disguises herself as a boy in order to continue her life’s passion – painting. Very interesting story and worth reading.

Also finished The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry: A Novel by Gabrielle Zevin. It popped up on a list I subscribe to and was available for $1.13 as an e-book. As it begins, you’re hearing from A.J., a grieving widower who owns a bookstore on an obscure island off the East Coast. He’s angry, rude and every other negative adjective you can imagine. A book rep comes to visit and he’s awful to her, yet she perseveres and manages to sell him a few books. You get to know his friends (a friendship with him is full of sharp points) and one day an abandoned toddler is found in his bookshop. In between the story line about A.J., the book rep, the little girl and others, you will learn all about A.J.’s book tastes. If you’re an avid reader, you’ll really enjoy that part. It’s a charming book; loved it.

Also read a quirky book, Goodbye, Vitamin: A Novel by Rachel Khong. She’s a new writer (newly published, I guess I should say) and this story is about Ruth, a 30+ something, trying to readjust to life without her fiance, who’s dumped her. She goes back home to help with the care of her father, who has Alzheimer’s. Written in a diary style, it jumps all over about her life, her mother, the funny, poignant things her father says on good days, and the nutty stuff he does on not-so-good days, her ex-, and her very quirky friends, too. Then a woman flits through who had had an affair with her father –  you get to observe all the angst from the mom about that. Mostly it’s about her father, as he’s relatively “together” early in the book, but then he disintegrates. Reading that part isn’t fun, although the author is able to lean some humor into it. I’m not sure I recommend the book exactly – I read it through – and felt sad. It doesn’t tie up loose ends – if you need that kind of book – you may not want to read this one.

 

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small, old and some very dented engraved silver plated tea spoons that belonged to my mother-in-law, and I use them to taste my food as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Pork, on January 29th, 2015.

sweet_sour_cabbage_beer_brats

A simple dinner, my old favorite sweet and sour cabbage, and I threw in a couple of beer brats during the last 5 minutes and that was my meal.

For awhile I haven’t given much of an update about me, my grief journey, or my foot injury. Or anything very personal. Here goes.

My foot: did I mention that I did have an MRI? Finally. Once I found out it could be done in an open MRI machine. Should-a done that a long time ago, because what it showed that darned sharp rock I stepped on tore my plantar fascia. Not just a strain or sprain, but a small tear, that’s 80-90% through the plantar fascia. So I’m back in the gosh-darned boot. Have been in it now for 4 weeks. Have another 2+ to go before I see the doctor again. I am, however, getting cold laser treatments to the area (from my chiropractor), which increases blood flow and, supposedly, helps cell growth (scar tissue, really) to grow/heal the plantar fascia. And I’ve only had 2 treatments so far and I swear, I can tell a slight difference. I was able to walk into the regular grocery store this morning and I did 3 aisles, came home and my foot doesn’t hurt like it did just 2 weeks ago when I tried that. So, I’m hoping that means it’s on the path to recovery!

My grief journey: it’s hard to say exactly where/how I am. I still, this being said at 10-months since my darling DH’s death, have rough days. I’m sure it’s not unusual. Most of my friends aren’t aware that I have bad days. They usually occur when I’m at home, on a day when I don’t have much planned. That’s when I miss Dave the most. That’s when I think about him more. When the house feels too big for me, and it’s too quiet. Memories come pouring in, and the tears flow out. Of when I’d see his smiling face as I came and went to my day’s activities. I miss him at our bible study group, when he’d make some very thoughtful comments. I miss him when dinnertime comes around, because I eat alone. And of course I miss his hugs and kisses. That goes without saying. I still haven’t been able to set the dining room table with 2 place settings and eat my dinner meal there without him. I want to, but can’t. I know he understands why. I miss him every night as I get into bed. But I try very hard not to dwell on it at that time because I don’t like crying myself to sleep. I get all choked up and it takes awhile for my sinuses to clear out so I can sleep. When I say my nighttime prayers I usually ask God to tell Dave I love him. Probably sounds kind of silly, but it comforts me. I know God answers prayers, so I hope he does that for me. Or sometimes, in my prayers I just speak the words in my head, directly to Dave, telling him I love him and miss him so much.

Dave and I used to go out to dinner (to nicer places) at least twice a week. I don’t do that anymore, and I miss it. I haven’t screwed up my courage yet to go to a nice restaurant by myself. I’ve read about women who do it, but I haven’t yet. Most of my friends are married couples anyway. I have some widow acquaintances, but none that I’ve bonded with very much –  yet. I need to work on that.

My life is so changed, now that I’m a widow. I still have lots of activities – I don’t sit at home day after day in a stupor – far from it. I’m busy. Almost too busy sometimes. And I wonder if I’m just masking my grief by staying too busy. Don’t know the answer to that. I suppose only a grief counselor could tell me. But nearly every widow I talk with tells me she’s managed her grief by keeping busy. Some widows have told me, just recently, that their 2nd year was harder than the first year. I still feel very married. Dave’s just not here. But he’s still my husband – in my mind. In the eyes of God and of the law I’m not married. Hard for me to accept, emotionally.

There’s still a lot of paperwork, meetings, trust tax returns, attorney visits, etc. regarding Dave’s and my trust. Nothing bad, just time consuming and it keeps dragging on and on. New bank accounts, closing old ones, etc.

My life is just different. I live solo. Nobody really cares where I am, that I’ll be home at 2:00, or greets me. No one really cares what I do with my time. I don’t feel like I accomplish very much anymore – my life doesn’t have the meaning it used to.  (I do have things I do – I sing in the choir, am in two bible study groups, I’m doing ministry in several areas, I’m in several organizations, have 3 book clubs I’m in, occasional lunches out with girlfriends.) I don’t think I’m depressed – I have days when I’m down – but most days I’m okay. Writing this, though, brings tears to my eyes because my emotions are right on my sleeve. My kids think I should get a dog or cat. I don’t think I should have a dog because I can’t walk much right now. A cat might be okay, but I’m taking some trips in coming months, and it would be a disservice to a new cat to get acquainted and then leave for awhile. I’m taking a trip to Europe with friends. Not for awhile – later this spring. My San Diego granddaughter is keeping her eye out for a rescue cat for me. I have a particular breed in mind (a Snowshoe) that’s spayed and de-clawed already. It would be an indoor cat completely. I live in an area not suitable for outdoor cats (way too many coyotes). I’d probably prefer a dog, but I’d have to drive the dog somewhere to take a walk (no sidewalks or areas suitable for walking where I live, a narrow 2-lane street that doesn’t even have curbs).

Which brings me to my mobility. I can walk, and I do. I’m able to go to and from places, short distances, and I spread my activities out over the course of the day (that’s what the dr. advised). But I can’t walk around a block even – that’s too much for now. I can drive with no difficulty (injury is to my left foot) thankfully. But I’m severely limited in how much distance walking I can do. I can’t go to a mall and visit 2-3 stores. I need someone to drop me off close to door so I don’t have to walk very far for anything. In a month, I hope I’ll be walking again, more normally, without the boot. I hope. I pray. If you’re a praying person, I ask for prayers for the healing of my foot.

Cooking? Well, there’s not a whole lot I do. That I can do. Simple meals I can manage. Standing up at my kitchen counter is the most painful thing I do, along with standing up in church to sing in the choir. After about 5 minutes of standing I can begin to feel an ache in my foot. So I spread out the dinner prep a little bit if I can, with a few sit-downs in between prep and cooking. I got a craving the other day for some sweet and sour cabbage. When I found the recipe some years ago that I’ve posted already (link up in first line) I’ve stuck with it. I like it. Just the right amount of sweet and tart. All I did this time was chunk-up some bratwurst (happened to be beer brats) in it during the last 5 minutes of the cabbage cooking time, and that was dinner. It was very satisfying. I had dinner out the other night with my friend Linda in San Diego, and I ordered an appetizer portion of mac ‘n cheese. And wings. That was dinner. Both things I rarely order, but oh, did they taste good. All comfort food for sure.

As I’m writing this I’m going to a new cooking class with my friend Cherrie tonight, so hopefully I’ll have some recipes to share from that class. I have posts that go out about 3 more weeks. I’ve managed to keep posting every 4 days or so. I still don’t know how long I’ll continue – I just take it one day at a time. Writing, I know, is therapeutic for me. Especially this post.

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  1. Toffeeapple

    said on January 31st, 2015:

    Whilst I can’t pray for you, I do wish you all that you want and need. Thinking about you frequently and sending hugs. xx

  2. Cynthia

    said on February 1st, 2015:

    I’m sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your story. May God bless you.

    Thank you, Cynthia. I don’t talk about my grief journey very often, but people who have been reading my blog for awhile, I think, want to know. . . carolyn t

  3. Connie

    said on February 2nd, 2015:

    When I read your “grief journal”, I wonder if we are twins who were separated at birth. So many of your comments reflect my life. I am 2 years and 4 months into my journey. We were married 49 years. I grieve not only for John but, the older I get, I grieve also for …how to say it…the youth and years we had together raising our family. The comment that struck closest to home with me was the one about not eating out anymore. There are so many places I think about going but don’t because I don’t seem to “fit” with either the married couples or the other widows. I keep busy but it doesn’t fill the loneliness. Oh well…. Keep on keeping on.

    Thank you, Connie. I’m sure our journeys in grief are no dissimilar. It’s just a different chapter of life, I suppose. Not a very fun one, for sure. Thank you for commenting, and keep in touch. You can email me directly if you want to – email address is on my contact page. . . .carolyn t

  4. janet

    said on February 6th, 2015:

    Hang in there Carolyn. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

    Janet

    Thank you, Janet. . . . carolyn

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