One of the biggest challenges of adjusting to life as a widow is trying to hold on to the memory of the life you had as part of a long-time couple while trying to remember the “Me” before “We”. In my case, recalling the latter is tied closely to the former.

Last week I started to paint again. I’d been wanting to for a long time now, but just couldn’t seem to pick up the brush and actually paint anything. Day after day I’d promised myself, and others, that each day would be the day I finally started anew. I still can’t recall if I ‘d painted at all since Rich passed one year and 3 months ago.

My life as an artist ties closely to my life with Rich. We met at an art event back in the early 1990s when I was just beginning to show and sell my work. In his life before we met, Rich was a woodcarver specializing in decoys. I still have a large collection of shore birds and duck decoys he’d carved and several created by some well-known carvers. 

At the time we met, Rich was just post-divorced and while no longer carving he spent his weekends assisting an older artist with driving to and setting up at art events in New Jersey. Frank Hulick, who passed several years ago, was an artist for The Audubon Society and I currently have a guest room that features several of his pen and ink prints of shore birds, ducks, sailboats and lighthouses. He is also the man who introduced Rich and I.

Most of my work has centered on vintage postcards from Rich’s favorite place, the New Jersey shore, but I’ve produced hundreds of works with images from around the world that are also displayed in homes and offices internationally.

In returning to painting, I’m returning to a time when I finally realized what I wanted to with my life at age thirty; the life that would bring me in to Rich’s life five years later.

When we’d moved to Georgia officially three years ago this month, I’d brought all my painting supplies and art display panels. I’d actually wanted to sell them back in New Jersey declaring that I was through with the art world after 30 years, but Rich insisted I keep them. With all the business of moving from New Jersey to Georgia and eventually caring for my parents at-a-distance and then here, my plans to paint were put on hold and then basically forgotten with the passing of Rich. 

Then earlier this year, I was approached about helping the local Women’s Club to plan and organize an art show in my community. In agreeing to, I started to reintroduce myself to my inner-artist and to others in the local art world. It also prompted me to start painting again. 

For years I’d worked with vintage postcards. When I was working as a full-time artist, I was participating in approximately 25 arts events a year and working continually on commissioned work. In truth, I was burned out by the time I’d moved South. But now, with a potential new audience, it may be fun to start again, focusing on local scenes and themes.

With each brush stroke and signing of a painting, however, the inevitable flashbacks of my former life in a different time and place with Rich occur. I think that is probably why it has been so difficult to reinvent myself in a new place and circumstances. I now work only when I’m inspired and to go slow. So far, so good.

I have been busy these days helping to sell tickets for the events, organize the participating artists, find sponsors for this charitable event while trying to create some new work to show. I had spent over 30 years helping to plan several large arts and crafts in New Jersey and had appeared in hundreds. I realize that I’ve missed collaborating with others in bringing together an event that helps to promote the arts and also benefits local charitable causes. 

And here’s the kicker, the date of that art show is February 4, the day of Rich’s birthday. It is also the date of an art event in New Jersey that still holds a special place in my history with Rich.

Yesterday was also the one year anniversary of Rich’s military service and interment at Jacksonville National Cemetery and the repass that followed here in my new community. Life has changed so much in just a year’s time, and will continue to I’m sure. I hope that by returning to painting and the business of art, Getting Back may be a bit easier.