Dear Friends,

It has been almost a week now that Paul died. It still seems surreal in between moments of awareness that this enormous event has taken place in my life. I have taken the last days to adjust to the reality and to not push myself. I have even postponed my income taxes to summer. I just can't concentrate even to assemble the materials needed to send to our accountant. I am inviting patience into my being.

Peter, even in his own shock and grief, has been an enormous help. I know we will get through all this. We have our second covid shot tomorrow after which I will have a little freedom. I will be able to walk to the grocery store. Buying my own food seems like such a luxury. And I even have a haircut appointment for two weeks from now that Peter arranged as a surprise. I must be getting better because I am beginning to care what I look like! 

Paul was cremated and Suzanne will take his ashes into the Sierras next summer when she and Ken go backpacking. The Sierras were always our favorite place to backpack. It is comforting to think Paul will return there even without me. Since Paul did not know anyone other than a former neighbor on Strawberry Lane who moved to Portland, a short notice will appear in the Ashland Tidings in a week or so. He never cared about a Memorial service. I wanted a gathering to honor him, but your letters directly to him were a comfort to him and me. It was the best way to honor him. If anyone wants to contribute to an organic farming project, he would be very happy with that.
 
I am feeling pretty strong for about half a day. Peter takes Sophie and me for vigorous walks in the neighborhood each morning and evening. Sophie and I are both learning how to be city girls. She stops and waits at each corner. I maneuver my new walker over gravel and mud (It rains in Portland intermittently almost daily. People pay no attention) at pretty good speed. It's the highlight of my day. I am intrigued by the architecture of the houses: some well over one hundred years and some heavy with moss. The landscaping is fascinating everywhere. Every walk is an adventure. I use the walker only for outdoor walking as the sidewalks are crazy with cracks and tree roots - dangerous for the most able bodied. I still have trouble with balance.

Life in Portland is interesting. I don't know anyone yet other than Peter's young neighbors. They have been very kind by bringing us food and helping with moving stuff. I hope to find a swimming pool ultimately and a meditation group but that won't safely happen until well into the summer. I am fortunate now that I can participate in my writing group and my friends through zoom. It all works for now. 

This short note grew into a letter. I am missing contact. Please write or call if you like. If I can't receive a call, please try again. I miss seeing you all. Many of the readers of this live across the pond in England, Italy,  and elsewhere where the houses are much older than one hundred years. I smiled when I wrote that. 

Be well. Thank you again for your loving energy.  Lovingly, Carol