12 weeks

Last summer, I started keeping a small art journal. Nothing fancy, nothing much. Supplies were flairs and colored pencils. When Ron went into the hospital in December, I grabbed a new notebook and decided to draw my way through the new year by making my own calendar. This kept me busy for many hours and was easy to put down and pick back up.

One day, my hands were full going to work, and I put the calendar and a water bottle together in my purse. Librarians across the galaxy are groaning right now. Yes, I knew better. How many times have I uttered that time-honored warning of not carrying water and books in the same container from my own lips? while not completely ruined, it was messy enough I didn't want to keep using it. Making a new one is not a big deal, but this one contains so much of what we did in the last three months of Ron's life. When Ron's MyChart disappeared, when account after account has been closed, I still have this as a record.

I wonder what my sons will think when they come across it while cleaning out my house one day. Will they stop to look at it and see its value? Will they understand why I kept pages that tripled in size? Maybe there will be a day when I can part with it and they'll never cross paths with this document that means so much. Today is not that day.

June 21, 2022. Today is the first day of summer and 12 weeks since Tuesday March 29. Father's Day was two days ago. Grieving, healing, grieving some more. Certainly not for the faint of heart.

As an aside, I've also changed from Flairs to Microns. Pages may be ruined again as I violate my own rule of water next to pages, but hopefully future words will not wash away!