Tuesday, June 23, 2015

How My Feet are Like Ryan Gosling

Dear John,
 
You see what I've been reduced to without you. You used to hold the yarn while I wound it. Then you got me a swift and ball-winder so I could do it when you weren't home. Tonight it didn't seem sensible to set them up since I had only one hank to wind. I looked around for something the right width to keep enough tension on the yarn and didn't find anything. So I improvised. And it worked very well, I might add.
 
This is another of the countless ways we widows have to adapt. It's a small thing, but symbolic. It goes along with figuring out how to use the trimmer and the financial software, finding a full-time job, and choosing the new furnace. We both enjoyed the process of winding yarn together. Tonight I missed you, but I had to laugh knowing how you must have been laughing as you watched me use my feet - laughing, and also proud of me for finding a way to do it.
 
So here I am, just what you wanted: independent, strong-minded, and smart-mouthed. And stubborn, and adaptable, and sometimes even inventive. I know you approve of all the things I've tackled and handled without you. Your faith in me helps, you know. I feel you cheering me on. And Mama and her mother are cheering right beside you. I come from a long line of independent, strong-minded, smart-mouthed women. My great-aunts Mary and Margaret are probably there, too, and maybe even my great-grandmother Fowler.
 
It was a small thing, but those are really the things that make up our lives, aren't they? Tonight I solved this little difficulty and it feels good. It feels even better to know that you're proud of me for doing it. If, however, you want to come wind yarn with me, I'll always prefer you to my feet. And to Ryan Gosling.
 
Love you best,
Joan.

No comments:

Post a Comment