Starting a new blog, the cast of characters, and an unexpected moment of clarity...

I had a blog for just over 10 years. It began as a blog to showcase my late husband's glorious landscape photography of Scotland. It was meant to chronicle our lives in the north of Scotland and our travels along the roads - both great and small - of this stunning country. But around year three of the blog, life started to become a bit challenging. Both Chris and I experienced losses of those close to us. A dear friend of mine, my mother and Chris' father (within four days of each other), a dear family friend to Chris and his parents, Chris' aunt, my uncle. And to add insult to injury, along that same time, Chris was diagnosed with bowel cancer. He fought it bravely and there was a period when we thought we had beaten it. But it returned, stronger and more invasive and, in the end, Chris did not survive. I had to say farewell to my darling husband on September 30, 2018. I was sitting beside him, holding his hand and telling him how much I loved him when he took his last breath. Sixteen months after his death, I had to say farewell to my wonderful mother-in-law when she died at the end of January, 2020. My blog became a public diary of my battle with grief and depression; my wrestling mentally with so much, too much, sadness. A diary of my move away from my beloved Wester Ross and my current home in Oban, Argyll and Bute. The past 33 months have been difficult.

Before I go on, I thought it would be helpful to see the faces of those who will appear in this blog. So, here are the dramatis personae in favourite photos. From the top left to right: Chris, Callie (daughter) and Stuart, Malcolm and Lucy (stepdaughter and husband), Natt and Olly (stepson and wife). Bottom left to right: Granddaughters Catherine, Alice, and step-granddaughter Paige, Roxie.

I decided if I were going to continue with my blog, I needed it to reflect what it had become. My mobility issues meant that I wouldn't be traveling around the country at a moment's notice, as Chris and I used to do. Instead, this blog would become that public diary the old blog had morphed into over time. Don't get me wrong, I still have the same incredible love for this beautiful country and, hopefully, there will be posts about days out and beautiful lochs and hills. Callie and I plan to do this once we have warmer weather and while the girls are in school.

My current situation is that I moved into a wheelchair-adapted flat at the end of September. I have made some new friends and will enjoy the coming months when I am able to paint and hang artwork (the flat is a new build and I have to wait until the first year has passed). The latest and best development is that I became the mama to a new fur baby just over two weeks ago. Roxie is a Pomeranian and chihuahua mix. At just 12 weeks old, she is tiny, but she definitely shows the signs of "small dog complex." She thinks she is an Alsatian! And she is such good company for me. She has most certainly elevated my mood and made me feel less alone. We are beginning to do some training and she appears to be very sharp and able to figure things out quickly. She has been a godsend to me. Callie comes over to visit or do chores for me three times a week and I see the whole family over the weekends. I may not have a sea loch view out my window anymore, but I am surrounded by the love of my family and that means the world.

As referred to in the title, I had a moment of clarity the other night. More of an epiphany, really. Sunday nights are bad for me. I have no idea why; perhaps because Chris died on a Sunday. But I find myself so grief-stricken on Sunday evenings. I talk to Chris and cry until there are no tears left. This past Sunday was worse because I had watched a BBC television show called "Grand Tours of Scotland's Lochs." The episode I watched took place in the area just north of where Chris and I lived and showed the magnificent scenery of the area. The episode ended with the host atop Stac Pollaidh with views over the landscape that we adored. And I felt such a longing, such a desire to be there again, trekking along with Chris as we discovered hidden spots of the most raw and beautiful nature we had ever seen. Or to stop along the single-track road that leads to a spot where we can see five munroes on the horizon. 

This homesickness for a time and place followed me to bed and I spent a good hour crying about the loss of the life I had known. In a moment, and perhaps inspired by Chris' angelic spirit that I feel so often, I realised something very important. I shouldn't be sad that I couldn't do these things anymore. Instead, I needed to be happy that these are things I was able to do. Chris and I had so many adventures until our collective health issues made our day trips impossible. We traveled the width and breadth of Scotland. We fell in love all over again with this country and each other every single time we went out. I will share some of those images in these blog posts.

My duty to myself and to my family now is to remember to rejoice in what was and not languish in thoughts of what might have been. Chris and I had the best time. We weren't just husband and wife. We were best friends and soulmates and nothing, not even death, can take that away from me. And I know, in my soul, that the day will come when Chris and I will be together again in some form or manifestation. I need to remember how lucky I was to find him. How lucky I have been to have realised a life-long dream of living in the UK. I have to remember that I have an amazing daughter and granddaughters; that I have a stepdaughter and stepson I love dearly and who are always there when I need them for simple conversation or for shared sadness. I have been blessed, truly blessed. And while I must live out the rest of my life without Chris by my side, he is actually still there. I just can't see him. But I can feel him and his love and I will strive to experience life happily and fully because that is what he would want and because that is what I should want. 

So, my first blog under this title. Hope you enjoyed it.

Comments

  1. espritdaigle1 June 2021 at 11:17

    Hi Martha, just reading through your new blog, I do still sense the deep grief of so many losses in the past few years but the glimmer of new hopes, direction and coming to terms with your life now, is very evident also. I'm sure that your new home, even more so when you are able to really put your personal stamp on things, plus your new delightful fur-baby, will become a haven of joy and new creativity. I wish all of those things for you and hope to follow your record of a positive future. 👍😘❤

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