Wednesday, 25 November 2009

These pictures were taken towards the end of this summer. We had had a perfect evening out, following a difficult few days, and driving back home the sky began to glow in these incredible colours.
I don't know why but even when I lived on the opposite side of the country with no way of knowing that I would eventually live here, I dreamt of living where the sun set over the sea. I had spent so many holidays with G and the kids in North Wales, sitting on various beaches watching sunsets and when he died I knew in my heart that I would be doing that again, soon, but I had no idea of how that could be achieved.
I met J a year after I was widowed. I was so low, so agaraphobic, so traumatised by events that had happened AFTER being widowed that I thought life was over, that no happiness or contentment could happen again.
One night I typed the word "grief" into my search engine and found myself in an American chat room for widowed people - a support group. There I went, night after night, to find comfort amongst people who had suffered similiarly. Two or three insomniac British people were in the group, who only met at 7pm US time but one night a person called Waterspirit arrived. I didn;t even know whether Waterspirit was male or female to begin with, but he turned out to be a Brit, and lived about 90 miles away. We met across a very busy chat room, began to correspond, met, and the rest as they say is history. I don't mean that our courtship was some idyllic period in our lives - we were both widowed, both still grieving and both very edgy. But trust grew and with the trust came friendship and love and when we married there was a sense for both of us of something new being born, a new partnership which could offer us a chance to grow and learn together - and so it has been. J is the kindest and most compassionate of men, he is a writer and a thinker, encourages me in every endevour and I try to do the same for him.

It wasn;t easy moving into the house he shared with his first wife. That was a difficult hurdle to overcome and I will eventually write about it. But as with most things, time and patience paid off, and a desire not to compromise our relationship over material objects. I discarded much and regretted it, and so knew that if J couldn;t discard things, then I had to honour his decision. So the alterations have been gentle and done when he has been ready.
The sky in these pictures is on fire, the sun plunging into a darkening sea.
This photo was actually taken through the car window as we travelled up the motorway home.

This photo shows the beach, the light almost gone, but the fire in the sky refusing to be put out just yet. Nature at its most breathtaking, surely.
And here is J! This photo was taken in near darkness so I did not expect it come out at all, but thanks to the miracle that is digital photography here it is. And here he is, camera round neck as usual, memory stick firmly in shirt pocket, shirt out!! This is my love for this second part of my life. I can tell him anything and everything. I can spill my heart out to him and even if he gets tired of some of the difficulties I go through - and who wouldn;t! - nevertheless he supports me. It is a difficult thing to write about, but sometimes being widowed gives one another chance at another life, and I have had to learn not to be embarassed at my incredible fortune. I was married for 29 years the first time and had no right to expect to be happy this time. But I am. I love this man. He is my husband and with him I can experience miracles.....that is what these photos mean to me. A miraculous evening we shared one evening, an evening that brought us close....
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1 comment:

  1. Thank you darling. This is very worthwhile, and I look forward to reading more.