Friday, July 31st is a revered day in my home.
On this day in 2026, I remember excitedly peeking through the doorway of the church to see my husband-to-be. "I love him so much, I blurted out to my uncle. Time passed. Each decade brought joys and challenges. Five years ago, Richard and I decided to commit to a renewal of vows at the beautiful Meadowlark Botanical Gardens in Northern Virginia. Little did we know that our dream would not come to be.
Over the years, I have learned that life is fragile and uncertain as it continues through seasons of change. I did hope for my Golden Anniversary to be a celebration of love and enjoyment, not to be spoiled by the hands of grief. Two weeks ago, my family gathered at Girasole, a countryside-garden restaurant for a celebration dinner of authentic, regional Italian cuisine. The beautiful country restaurant was the site my husband and I chose to have our anniversary dinner a few years ago. This year, I wished to have a special family gathering and my family agreed. A beautiful summer evening became the site for a quiet, private remembrance of what was in life.
It just so happened that the Poetry Friday Roundup was scheduled for July 31st. I started to write my blog post on Thursday with a thoughtful intent to join the August Challenge created by the Poetry Sisters', Tanita, Mary Lee, Laura, Tricia, and Liz. The prompt for creating a pantoum poem was selected from Padraig O Tuama's Poetry Unbound challenge in January. Padraig introduced a Midyear Pantoum on where you are now, and where your hopes take you by the end of the year. He noted that the first step was to write eight lines that would fold into a pantoum. I always enjoy the writing of the Poetry Sisters and Poetry Pals, Michelle K Patricia F, Denise, and Margaret. who contributed to the challenge. Because of the family weekend, I never was able to submit my post so two weeks later, while on our family vacations, I pause to finish what I started.
Midyear Thoughts regarding a pattern of life changes. (Instead of eight lines, I clusted my thoughts under three ideas: the past, present, and future.)
- How did my life move forward after April 2, 2025? For a year, I passed through seasons of change without my husband. I listened to Earth's movements, especially at night while I was alone. Throughout the first few months, sleeping was erratic. I felt broken down as tensions stormed like rainstorms. I grieved, held on to faith through the storms, and prayed in the stillness of night, noting that changes needed to unfold.
- Where am I now? I hold on to faith and hope, like my Nonnie and Mother did during trying times. I listen for the call to mingle beyond family life, open my heart, not be frightened by the darkness of grief, and step forward to seek bereavement counseling. Tears still appear like rainstorms when I feel the loss. Coldness at night brings back memories of the past, when I had more than just a heating blanket to keep me warm. I watch the transitions of nature's seasons and write when there is time.
- Where will this journey take me? The petals of springtime, the variations of summer sounds, and the shore melding with swooshing ocean waves are nature's way to nurture my mind, body, and spirit. I am eager to feel the soft sways of the sea bringing me to a calmer me. On the summer vacation, I will dig deeper, pausing to meditate what will come next. With two more seasons ahead, I trust that my mind, body, and spirit will feel the power of faith growing while I hold on to the hope of joyful tomorrows. Little, watchful steps is what I need and the transitions of season will help me find deeper ways to move forward.
