Breathe, Balance, and Joy

I'm at my parents' house for the holidays. The change of scenery has been good, especially now when it's hard to not think about what was happening at this time last year. I've been spending lots of time with family and old friends. I've already seen 22 children--cousins' kids, niece and nephews, friends' kids. So many kids!

It's been pouring rain pretty much every day in Southern California, but today the sun is finally out and I took a walk in my parents' backyard. Where Greg and I were married.

This song popped in my head:




Greg used this song when he proposed to me. I haven't listened to it in a while. The lyrics have taken on a different meaning.

So many memories. It's hard to believe it's been a year since he was taken from me.

I do hope he's a peace and not haunting me. I've been at peace myself, overall. No magical thinking for me--at least, not after the first few months.

Here are a few things I'd like to share, ways I've been able to honor Greg this past year.

On what would have been our wedding anniversary, I got a tattoo in his honor:

If you notice the necklace I'm wearing, it was a gift from my friend Rose. It's a necklace in the shape of Iowa, with the geographic coordinates of where Greg is buried.

It was such a touching gift, and I wear the necklace almost every day.

Speaking of touching gifts, my company, Hachette Book Group, who has been so supportive, gave me the gift of a paving stone in Central Park, where Greg and I were engaged, and spent a lot of time together going on walks during the summer he was first getting chemo.

It's on one of the bridges to the reservoir, around 85th Street on the East side. Go see it if you're in Central Park.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I decided to have Greg's ties made into a bereavement quilt. He had a lot of ties! He wore them to teach.

I found Rosie Rhine online, and will say that she does beautiful work:

I'm going to hang it in my new condo. (Did I mention I'm a homeowner now?!)

Right after my closing with my keys!

moving in

Oh, and I ran the NYC marathon! I do still intend to blog about it (I got a little derailed by the election results--more grieving!), but for now, here are a few photos:

Alvina's Team for Greg raised over $26,000 for cancer research! Thank you to all who donated.

Alvina's Team for Greg! Clockwise from left: Kate, Ellen, Kirk, Jackson, Frank, and me.

photo by Mariko Nakatani

(By the way, I'm considering running again next year, so let me know if you're interested in joining my team!)

It's been a challenging, but rewarding, and amazing year. A year filled with lots of tears, and laughter, a few breakdowns, incredible stress, work challenges and triumphs, therapy, new friends, old friends, family, travel, great food and drink, adventure, and love. Despite everything, I do feel that I have a blessed life. I wish Greg were still here to share it with me, but I know he's rooting for me.

When I packed and unpacked, I did unearth many more memories of Greg. He used to leave me notes everywhere. Here is one of my favorites:

My mantras this year were imprinted on my rings. Breathe, Balance, and Joy.

I've ordered three new rings for next year. New year, new mantra.

Wishing you all a happy holiday season, and a peaceful and joyful new year.

Ode to long-distance running

I did a 10.75 mile run this weekend--was only ("only") planning to run 10 miles, but ended up running farther to finish up the Prospect Park loop--because, you know, I couldn't not finish the loop. So much of long-distance running is a mental game (although, of course, training helps)!

My run started off sluggish, but after a few miles I was feeling really great--the weather on Saturday was unusually cool and Fall-like in New York, and I was getting that runner's high feeling that I could run faster, and run forever. And, I started feeling really happy and grateful that I brought long-distance running back into my life. I talk about marathon training and running sometimes when I speak at writer's conferences. About how one of the things that's most satisfying about running is that it's perfectly measurable. I ran 10.75 miles this weekend. I ran it with an average of a 10 minute, 20 second mile. Those are accomplishments that can't be taken away. Writing a book, even if it's never published, is also that kind of accomplishment.

Long-distance running--really, any kind of running--helps me think and get my head sorted. I generally like listening to podcasts when I run, but I often just let myself think. Sometimes I do work while running--draft emails in my head, think through problems. But, usually I just think about my life.

I prefer running outside with nature. Try to take in my surroundings. I love the solid feel of the ground under my feet. Sometimes I people watch while I run. There's always a lot going on in Prospect Park. Plus, I love looking at the sky.

A scene from an evening run in Prospect Park

When I ran the marathon ten years ago, I was actually in the process of going through a break-up. Running after (and during!) break-ups have always helped me put things in perspective (and, let's be honest, get back into dating shape!). And, believe me, I had a lot of time to think about things and the relationship while running the marathon. It gave me the peace and clarity to know that even though it would be painful, I would get through it. And, I did. There's nothing like running 26.2 miles to help you believe that you can accomplish anything, survive anything.

Training for the marathon this year has helped give me that same peace and clarity after Greg's death. Once again, I know I can get through it. I can do anything. It also gives me time to be alone without feeling lonely. I'm so glad I decided to run the marathon again this year, both to help raise money for cancer research, and for my physical and mental health.

I had a good weekend. Didn't do any work (although I could/should have), but had nice dinners with friends Friday and Saturday evenings, binge-watched some Mr. Robot, and spent a marvelous day today at the beach. Beautiful, peaceful, lovely. I swam in the ocean twice, and it felt exquisite--I honestly don't recall the last time I swam in the ocean, but I should really do it more often.

I hope you all had nice weekends, too.

A month

It's been four weeks and two days since my husband died.

I know this year will be full of milestones that I won't be able to help but notice. One day. One week. One month. Tomorrow would have been Greg's 41st birthday.

I'm doing okay. I'm okay. A month feels both so long and so short. It passed in a daze. The pain isn't as raw now, but I still feel a little a bit in a fog, on autopilot, like I'm living someone else's life. Beauty helps a lot--the beauty of nature, the city, flowers, children, music, snow. In the past few years, while dealing with Greg's illness, because I didn't know what kind of future to plan for, I tried to focus on being present, on noticing the beauty of the world, and that habit has helped enormously these past few weeks.

For the most part, I'm doing okay. (Did I say that already?) I'm living a normal(ish) life. I see friends, I'm cleaning and organizing the apartment, I'm cuddling with Venus. I'm able to enjoy food and drink and company, TV and movies and music, I can laugh and sing and dance, and I can sleep. For the most part I can think of Greg without feeling sad. Remember moments and stories, talk about him without crying. And then other times I just feel irritated constantly that this is our my life, that he is gone, and everything makes me feel like crying.

We had a lovely memorial with our friends in our apartment in Brooklyn on New Year's Day. I spent a healing two weeks in southern CA, seeing friends and family and spending lots of time with children. In the middle was Greg's burial with his mother, sister, and extended family in beautiful Iowa. I feel good about his final resting place.

I'm planning to start working again tomorrow--I've completely checked out of work, and I'm thankful that my wonderful colleagues understand. I'll work at home for a few days, and then plan to go into the office for the first time on Wednesday. I can't say I'm ready to go back, but I'm not not ready either. I needed to just set the date, do it, and see how it goes. I think the routine will be good for me.

I wanted to say thank you--thank you to family, my friends, Greg's friends, our friends. Thank you to loved ones, acquaintances, to the publishing and kidlit community, to strangers. Thank you for your comments, your messages, emails, cards, letters, phone calls, donations for cancer research, stories, flowers, gifts, thoughts, prayers, help, and kindness.

Here are a few photos from the last month.

From Greg's copy of The Plague.

me and Grace Lin on New Year's Eve

mom and niece

niece Jessie. Lots of "kid therapy" in CA.

Greg's favorite tractor. In Harlan, Iowa.

me with Greg's mother and sister.

hiking with my dad

Lot of time and love with my niece Shoshana

A snowy night in Brooklyn

This is one of the songs Greg put on my mix that has been especially comforting. "You'll Never Walk Alone" by Gerry & The Pacemakers (and yes, he knew this from football/soccer, but it's still such a beautiful song):

Countdown to the marathon, and thoughts on beauty

For some reason, I've been thinking that I have 3 weeks until the marathon, but I realized suddenly over the weekend that it's just 2 weeks away. There's a counter on the official ING Marathon website that kind of stresses me out, but really, I'm ready. Well, as ready as I'll ever be! Which if good, because it's too late to do anything about it, really. So until then, I'm just planning on eating a lot of pasta, doing a few short runs, and trying to wrap up my fundraising.

Speaking of fundraising, you can donate here for pediatric cancer research. I think I've gotten one blog-related donation so far! Thank you, thank you Kristy.

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For those of you in the NY area, you should definitely check out the Chihuly exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx--it's there until October 29th. I went there for Chihuly Nights last Thursday for Saho's Birthday, and it was breathtaking. Here are a few pics:

Or check out an exhibit somewhere near you.

It made me think about the different kind of beauty in the world. That something so artificial , and surrounded by nature, could still be so breathtaking. This past weekend I was surrounded by different kinds of beauty. I took a trip out to Princeton with two friends to visit Julie and have a girls' weekend.

Here is some of the beauty I encountered there:

The beauty of the blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and the green in an apple orchard on a brisk fall day...

the beauty of finding my first-ever four-leaf clover...

the beauty of warm homemade apple cake topped with homemade vanilla ice cream...

and, of course, the beauty of friends.