I'm empty. I'm full.

So many times in my week, and often times daily too, I function on empty. What else can be taken away? I have no more fight. Let me out of here. 

Daily I am reminded how much I have been filled up. Walking around the neighborhood with Summer, neighbors and friends waving as they pass in cars going to work, or coming home. Hugs from my children, grandkids, 'neighbor kids', housemate, bicycle friends, activist friends, my designer, my clients even, and Joel.

There are mornings that I am so full, there is no room for sadness. So full of appreciation that I have the options in my life that I have. The circumstances are not of my choosing and I am even more grateful to have people in my life that help create the completion I want and need to continue my journey through grief, loss and new life.

My neighbor kids are my a.m. wake up and have been since January 2012 when their mom put out word for help with their morning routine as she was too sick to manage it anymore. We had been acquaintances. My good neighbor down the block had told me Alexandra was looking for help and Helen immediately thought of me for the position. 

'Little did I know', fully, what journey I would be embarking on in this new year of 2012. The first day of work, January 16th, was the day Rich got very sick. Alexandra died on February 11, Rich was diagnosed with cancer on Feb 16th.

I told this story before but some of you may not have heard it. These children, Adrian and Naomi, are the basis for my own recovery. The perspective of a woman in her late 50's changes when there are two preschoolers that have lost far more. The 39 years I had with Rich, they will not have with their mother. Her husband will not have a 35th Anniversary. I am not comparing one loss to another. Rich was an enormous loss, as you each have either experienced in your own life, or will someday.

Getting up at 5:30 weekdays has been the most consistent, consoling and structuring activity I have had since Jan 2012. The kids are in 1st and K now. I no longer walk them to Peter Pan Nursery School in our wonderful Oakland neighborhood of Maxwell Park. I miss the hellos of the parents from the Co-op, the hugs from the teacher, Gail, watching Naomi paint four paintings before she has her jacket off. Adrian running off to play with the boys.

When I walk to Bertie's in the twilight of spring and fall, the bright light or fog of summer, the darkness and star filled sky of winter, he and the kids, his in laws, Alice & Richard K are my family. We cover one another. They know when I am empty or full and appreciate that I am a constant for them as well.