I'm not ready yet
to transfer everything to the new blog and close the CaringBridge site.
Actually, I probably will not close CaringBridge until I am comfortable with Squarespace; and I am so backwards with all things computer that it may take a while. I am still donating to CaringBridge monthly. And I will put this entry on the blog as well, hoping to learn how to do it.
For those of you who have looked at this new site, and wondered just what that was on my lap, in the photo: that is Bracha the cat, who decided to make a nest atop all the things I was trying to sort out in my purse and wallet the night before travel.
It has been a rich day, visiting with Israeli friends, walking, baking (newly discovered: Cloud Bread, which isn't really bread at all), walking again at dusk in the lovely company of swooping bats.
I have been thinking lately of how very very lucky I have been to spend all the years I had with a man whose spiritual life was so central to him, and who was at the same time so open and intrigued by the beauties and gifts of this world. I am beginning to realize anew how rare and precious it is to be able to share those aspects of ourselves that deeply shape our internal and external lives. Our "ways in", when we are young, are varied and sometimes quirky in this society. Some of us have paranormal experiences that lead us to question what our society thinks is possible, or "normal". Some of us have relatives who are "fey"...(my grandmother knew things in advance; when I was 18 my mother discovered that she was a "medical intuitive".) Meanwhile, my limbic brain was gravitating towards things Jewish---and in those years, at best, the Judaism available to sort-of-Conservative kids with mystical leanings was limited in things that truly nourished the soul.
I had to investigate many other paths, from science fiction to medieval mysticism, before finding a Jewish "way in".
If this had been at any other time in history, or place in the world, I may never have found the unique and marvellous combination of qualities and interests that Zalman embodied. (I know that was true for many of us.)
On another level, I simply (still) miss the warm, quirky, deep, loving day-to-day presence.
I am managing better. And---I still feel as if there has been an amputation of some essential part of me.
And this business of moving (bit by bit) over to a Blog Of My Own feels somewhat like moving out of the house Zalman and I have occupied together. It is very disorienting, and I will decide within the "trial" time whether it is really for me.
So thank you all for your patience and your presence all this time, and the wonderful, loving, supporting, helpful things you have given me by writing back.