It’s remarkable, to me anyway, that it has been five years since my last blog piece. Sloths are faster than me when it comes to my posting speed. Perhaps it is because five years ago I launched from Covid as if by slingshot. I went into the pandemic with a broken leg, worry for my daughter (on the east coast, while I was in the west) three years broken hearted, and lost. I was still grieving my husband’s death and had just sold the business that had been so much a part of our identities for 25 years (In my case. Longer for GBJr.)

I was so lost and lonely during lockdown that I agreed to serve on five different boards/committees (what was I thinking?), signed up for a two and a half year writing course and started my own photo business, aptly named Phoenix Photography. I had always taken photos for others, for work. In this re-birth of my photo career, I decided I would take the images I wanted to take and treat them the way I wanted to treat them with different digital films and filters and so on, for a more artistic bent.

During that very isolating time I finally had a reconciliation of sorts with myself. I don’t recall ever feeling truly depressed before, but during Covid, like so many, I was as down as I’ve ever been. I don’t know if it was the earthquake that happened in our area during lockdown (not kidding) or what, but something figuratively shook me; telling me it was time to pull up my big girl panties and get on with life. Stop feeling sorry for myself. 

On top of the personal, Covid-induced shakeup the biggest and, perhaps, craziest of all things I did was to dip my toe in the online dating pool. At first, I just thought I’d look around online. I had no plans to “talk” to anyone. I just wanted, out of curiosity, to see who and what was out there doing this sketchy thing. Remember, during Covid we had no idea if we were ever going to be allowed out in public again. Yes, we really thought that. When, if ever, would we be allowed to gather and spend time face to face? I was not overly sure I wanted to date but I was curious enough to want to see what was out there. 

That thing they say about all the good ones being taken…? The tattoo to tooth ratio (as my husband likes to say) is a real measuring stick when looking around in Idaho. Okay, that’s not entirely fair. There are doctors, lawyers, teachers, firefighters…all sorts of good folk out there online (with or without hair, teeth or tattoos), but not too many near me in my rural location. Ultimately, I did start to engage a bit. I went out on a handful of dates with two different guys. Both nice, but not for me. Then along came David (with hair, teeth and no tattoos!). By the way, I have nothing against a bald pate. My late husband had one and he was handsome and wonderful. Anyway, at one time David and I lived, as the crow flies, about a mile apart, but as far as we know our paths never crossed (despite his dating someone I knew and had hired for some catering). What came immediately was the ease with which we could speak and the incredibly similar experiences we had growing up…traumas and all. We got each other. That was kind of addictive. Full, 100% comfort with someone takes time and yet it felt like we’d known each other for ages. Regardless, it took a bit to become comfortable with just dating again and reconciling my feelings for my late husband with those that were arising for David. When we were three weeks into dating, David said to me “I’m going to wait a year, but I’m going to ask you to marry me,” (much to our brother in law’s chagrin…” you blew it!” he told David) While our brother-in-law was correct that that statement could have me running for the hills, I was surprised by my reaction.  It gave me some pause, but I thought to myself, “Hmm. Yeah, I could see that. That’s a real possibility.” 

As it happened, I really needed that year. I had to sort out how my heart dealt with two separate loves. One that was not able to be physically present and engaging anymore and one that was. It also was impacting family relations and friendships, the fact that I was serious with someone new. I was following my heart, but it was making things awkward with those I’d cared about for so many years who were friends and even some of Gary’s family.

After David talked about a proposal in a year’s time, it was obvious he was serious, but I didn’t feel like I could dive in 100% just yet. I was driving home, solo, from a ski race in Colorado, so I spoke out loud to Gary in the car. “Gary,” I said. “I need to know that you are okay with this. I mean, I know before you died you told me that I should remarry, but that was the last thing I was thinking about at the time, and I wouldn’t let you talk about it. Now I’m wondering. How do you feel about my dating someone. I need a sign, and it can’t be just something vague. I need a clock-me-over-the-head, Hello, Dolly!, super obvious kind of sign…where there is no question.”

Now there are two things you need to know at this point. One, if you are not familiar with the musical Hello, Dolly! it’s about a widow who makes her living as a matchmaker. She, herself, is interested in re-marrying, but she won’t do it until and unless her late husband gives her a sign. Her late husband was known for saying “Money is like manure. It’s no good unless it’s spread around.” At some point, by the end of the musical, the man that Dolly wants to marry says “Like I always say, money is like manure. It’s no good unless it’s spread around.” The exact words of her late husband. That was it. Dolly had her sign.

Two, I often said after my daughter came into the world, it was like my life, which I thought had been in color, had actually in black and white before her arrival, and now my life was full of color. When Gary was dying, we had frequent, if difficult conversations about what was happening. He asked me one time, “What do you think will happen when I die? Do you think everything will just go black and that will be it?” I responded, “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s a little like our world is in black and white and where you are headed there will be color (there’s a sidebar below to this tale, so stay tuned).

The day after I got home from my ski trip (where I asked Gary for a sign…a super obvious, Hello, Dolly! kind of sign), I was standing in the lift line next to David waiting to board the chairlift. He turned and looked at me and said, “My life was in black and white before I met you and now it’s in color.” Yup. He said it. If my head could have spun around three times, I think it would have.

“What did you say?!” I almost screamed at the poor guy. He was a little taken aback. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “You said something very right.” I was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Have I ever said that to you before?” “Said what?” he asked. “The thing about black and white and color and stuff.” He looked totally confused. “No.” … Hello, Heather!

Okay, so my sidebar is, that about five months after Gary passed, I had the most remarkable conversation with a well-know (thanks to television) medium. While psychics have a bit of a bad name, for good reason, I had seen this woman work before and I felt confident enough in what I heard to give her a try. I’m so very glad I did. Whether malarkey or not, it brought some peace. There were far too many things (like things said in private between Gary and myself) that she was telling me from him. Things no one else would know (among other indicators) which helped me feel like maybe he’d been there to talk to me.

Before I got on the call with her, I had asked Gary to answer five questions for me. I can’t recall what they all were, but I do remember that one of them was about what I should do with his, now my, business. At the end of the call, the medium asked if I had any questions. I thought about my list of five questions I’d given Gary before our call and realized all had been answered. I said, “No, I don’t think so. Actually, wait. Yes. We talked before his death about what it would be like where he was going. I’m wondering if it’s what we discussed. Her response was… “Oh, wow. No one’s ever done this before. He just showed me the opening scene from the Wizard of Oz where it’s black and white and now he’s showing me the color portion.”

So, here I am, five years later, sitting and typing this in my photo studio/office which is not quite a year old. I am still serving on one of those boards I signed up for in 2020 (for two more months) while writing a middle grade novel series and pedaling it to agents. I am selling images and still trying to maintain relationship with the family and friends who were impacted by my, now, two-year-old marriage to my best friend, David. Gratefully, my daughter and her husband absolutely love David. My parents are fans, and friends that David and I knew separately prior to our meeting, were thrilled to hear that we’d become a couple. They thought we were perfect together. The rest will hopefully come along. Family and friends are a delicate and precious thing. Handle with care.

Guess you might say I’ve been busy since my last post.