I didn’t mean to stop blogging … I just stopped having things I wanted to write about. In truth, I stopped wanting to write, full stop. Which was a bit of an identity crisis. I have wanted to write almost as long as I can remember. It has been part of my identity – I read and I write (though most of my writing is personal – journaling and personal study). But the last year or so I haven’t been that person. I’ve found it difficult to find and settle into books. I haven’t written much at all, apart from my “letters” to Tom. I threw myself into DIY projects around my home but even that has lost its attraction (maybe it was trying to tile a shower in the middle of Christmas festivities??). It’s such a weird place to be in. Does everyone go through an identity crisis? I’m not sure I’d call it a crisis, per se. But when Tom died suddenly the future was unmapped and it has stayed that way. Before, the future was this combined vision made up of things we both wanted and things that were just a natural result of the life we had built together. But now it’s just made up of my preferences and dreams – but I’m not used to thinking of those terms, so even figuring out what those are has been tricky.
What have I been doing? Making pottery, going to lunch with friends, being the mom, helping my kids make contact with their biological family, trying to re-establish a house cleaning routine (really, without another adult in the house to notice the inch of dust it is very easy to ignore!) … nothing too exciting. I guess I’m still kind of floundering around trying to figure out where I should go next. But I think blogging should be a part of that.