"Time passes slowly up here in the mountains . . . " - Bob Dylan

Lima, MT

I have been in Whitefish for three days.  Each day it feels like a bit more of the weight from the past couple of years falls from my shoulders.  I stayed at Jan's Cafe and Cabins on Friday night.  It's close to the Continental Divide (note the snow on the mountains) and was the perfect place to spend my first night in my new home state.  The photo above is of a stream that runs through the small town of Lima, MT.  I sat by this stream and reflected on my journey and my planned arrival in Whitefish the following day. 

And now I am home.  I've been focused on getting myself established here, attending AA meetings and staving off the loneliness that I know accompanies a move of this consequence.  Phone calls back to friends in San Diego help.  But, it's necessary for me to embrace the loneliness as part of the process - very similar to the grieving process, actually.  There can be solace in solitude.  I'll try to remember that in the coming days and weeks.

The Hesitation Waltz

Hmmmm . . . two entries in as many days' time. I amaze myself.

I definitely am doing my own version of the Hesitation Waltz as I prepare to leave Charles' and my townhome and San Diego. Am I making the right decision? Will I wind up regretting my move and leaving my friends our shared history behind?  Will I be able to make a go of it in Montana?  Will I meet a great guy up there who loves being in the Rockies as much as I do - someone whose sense of paradise leans more toward mountains and less toward beaches?

Charles used to describe me as "poor conflicted Jack." In many ways, he's right. I don't know whether it's a Libra trait, a Jack Albrecht trait, or just a human one for me to hem and haw, to deliberate and to over-analyze my decisions. I just know that's how I seem to have operated all of my life.

The etymology of "decide" is literally "to cut off," (de- "off" + cædere "to cut"). It has to do with resolving to do something and taking action. So, perhaps my state could be termed, more appropriately, INdecisive. I've heard that Charlie Brown is a Libra, a bit on the wishy-washy side and a worrier. Good grief! ;)

A Soft re-Entry

Downtown Whitefish, Montana

For the few among you who have encouraged me to pick up my laptop and continue entries in my blog, I've decided that it's time. I began this blog thinking that it'd be Didion-esque, a la "The Year of Magical Thinking," where I would track my journey through grief-land. The reality was that I was just too involved in getting myself through than sharing my feelings with all and sundry.

My therapist says that I am safely on the "other' side of grief. I agree, but also know that the death of someone close changes you inextricably and profoundly. I wouldn't want it any other way ~ it's a continuing tribute to Charles and his memory.

Today's will be a short re-Entry. Perhaps part of the problem was that I had no clue or inspiration about how to proceed with this thing, but I think that I do now.

I have been cleaning Charles' and my townhome in preparation for its sale. Of course, this set me on a journey through long-stashed boxes, winnowing through the stuff inside and rediscovery of things forgotten. Among those things was a poem I had written almost twenty years ago for a guy I was dating. I figure what better way to resume this blog than by posting this poem. I'm not really one to write poetry, but I was rather impressed with this, even if it's mine ~ but, perhaps I'm just easily impressed!


for S

if I were a poet
I would gather similes
like sheaves of wheat
comparing you to some bardish fancies
beguiling you with my come-hither glances
I would charm you, disarm you
with odes and sonnets
rhyme couplets as florid as Easter bonnets.

but, alas, my bent is of stodgier fashion
than forger of meter, iambic of passion
what my words cannot say
might be best left unsaid
will you sense by my touch
what's locked safe in my head?

Jack Albrecht, 12/12/1990