My husband was a collector. We have windows, if you are in need of any window of any shape and size. We have lawn mowers (at least I think). Historically, he had an array of push mowers and ride-ons. Yet the shovels are not yet put away, leaning against the door, while my winter coats still hang on hooks throughout the house, just in case. I just don't know if I have one working lawn mower. Thoughts of tackling this, just overwhelm me. I am out of my territory. Meanwhile the grass grows at a furious rate after months of dormancy.
It has been decades since I have pushed a mower. I am not sure how to start one. It seems that my anxiety about another change of season and my first spring without my handy husband may have been alleviated had I planned ahead a little bit. Yet, I need to give myself a break; after all I am carrying the load of two adults. My schedule opens a bit this weekend. I will walk the property checking for rocks and sticks that may catch in the mower, but not before I find at least one mower in working order and pray for dry weather.
1 comment:
The best advice I received after Rob's death was to find a "handyman" who could help with those chores that simply feel too daunting. It has taken me 14 months to do that. I am glad I did though.
The grass will grow (You should see my yard at the moment). Other stuff will happen. Stuff that was beyond the purview of what I know. Sometimes it all gets to me--a physical reminder of the loss. Other times I can laugh. What I try not to do is blame myself.
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