Il dolce far niente

I just finished reading an article in AARP Magazine written by Bob Brody, an essayist and author. The article, entitled Relearning the Fine Art of Doing Nothing, reminded me that a walk around the park isn’t a race, nor should it be. Since my Bob (Robert Vander Meer) passed away May 30, 2024, I seem to be trying to outdistance my grief. Busy, busy, busy!

Brody’s article has me rethinking that approach. Maybe it’s okay to enjoy the good times as they come and not worry about whether I’m doing enough to stay engaged with life. I’m 80. Just how much engagement do I need? Well, enough to avoid isolation, but not so much I feel unduly pressured.

A good friend (also a widow), and I have agreed to start walking around a local park now that the days are getting longer, and the weather is improving. We’re building stamina for a trip we plan to take this summer that will require some degree of strenuous walking. I’m using the aid of a rollator (four-wheeled rolling walker for those of you who aren’t there yet), my friend under her own steam. After reading Brody’s article it occurred to me that with the help of the rollator, I can step right out, sometimes leaving my friend a few steps behind. Why? Because I’ve always believed that when you were headed out the door, there must be some place you had to be. For me, getting there (wherever there was) on or ahead of schedule has always been paramount.

After reading Brody’s article, I thought back to a time when just being a kid was the only thing I had to do, running wild through trees and brush, finding a hidden waterfall and underground tunnels, going places that would have given my mother a heart attack, had she known. Oh, my! Did we have fun and not a care in the world.

So, maybe, instead of racing around the park, I’ll slow down so my friend and I may talk to the dog walkers and tourists along the way, or maybe just admire the beauty all around, and the gorgeous buildings that make our town unique. And simply be.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll feel lighter in my heart because in this town where we lived many happy years together, I’ll feel the joy once more of being alive – as my Bob would say – in this great big, beautiful world. *Il dolce far niente, my friends.

*The sweetness of doing nothing.

IN MEMORY…

Good grief! It’s been too long since I posted ANYTHING on this blog. Heaven knows who might actually see this, but if you do, please know I look forward to your comments.

As many of you know, my dear and amazing husband Bob Vander Meer, passed away on May 30, 2024. What follows are reflective poems honoring his memory. I confess to not paying attention to ‘poetic form’ and wrapped my heart instead around what I was and am feeling. We all grieve in different ways. I am so grateful to my family and friends for their love and support and presence, and for continuing to be there for me every day.

TIME
This is the moment.
Seize it. Do not
look to later
for by then,
it may be too late.

CHANGE
Life changed for me today,
not at all in a good way,
but possibly for the best
my husband is at rest.

He Is standing at Heaven’s door
painless and upright now and ever more.

MISSING YOU
Today is the next day
without you,
missing your voice
and seeing your
quirky, lovely smile.
I miss you.
Be at peace, my love,
and filled with joy
as you dance
with the angels
to the music of
Lawrence Welk,
and tell Jesus
your dear wife
says, ‘hi’.

STARTING NOW
We are now a me
and right now,
I don’t like it.
I never will.

You are an essential part
of who I am.
Will I go on
without you?
Of course I will,
but I’ll miss you
being beside me
every step of the way
all through the day.

HORIZONS
Clouds bunch and thin,
regroup into whimsical shapes,
like my mind and heart
creating life in new ways
as I move forward
without you by my side.
You remain in the essence
of who I am…
…that will never change.

STOP
You would think the world would STOP!
so I could breathe
and process
and grieve.
But it does not.
I rely on the healing nurture
of nature and the presence
of God in every leaf and cloud
as I find my way,
toward peace and joy each new day.

LAUGHTER
Life goes on
Altered by a new reality.
Used up and sad for now.
Good news!
He is here!
The God of all
Eases light into each day,
Rays of peace and hope.

THE BEACH
Landlocked and far from lapping waves
that wash upon the shore,
memory takes me there
where blue-grey waters
stretch to the horizon
and I am at peace.

TREE WHISPER
The shush, shush, shush
sighing through the trees
sing songs heard
deep in my soul,
quieting my spirit.

UNTOLD
How much do we not remember
of days gone by? Or do we recall
with little veracity at all,
only what puts us in a good light
doing only those things that are oh so right.
On this my 80th year around the sun,
I vow to be joyful and share the fun
of living in thankful anticipation
of every moment of grand elation.

PISMO
Sandy shores and waves
washing upon the beach,
water stealing away our footsteps
as we walk hand-in-hand.
These memories etched
indelibly on my heart.


First photo we were both MUCH younger 😊. The bottom photo was taken several years ago on our last visit to Pismo Beach, CA, a place we loved to go.