Last week, a therapist’s reminder: mindfulness and intentionality about hopes, about joy. The weeks and months, for so many of us, have been steeped in challenges, and it hasn’t really let up. I heard someone on the radio use the term “resiliency fatigue,” and it resonated. I’m tired. Tired of COVID. Tired of lack of leadership. Tired of racial injustice. Tired of police brutality. Tired of division. Tired of hearing stories of hungry children and fires burning and broken lives. And I’m tired of grieving.
Also, most days I catch glimpses of a reality beyond hardship. Some days it takes effort, but often words come to mind or my husband hugs me just right or the dog lays at our feet in a way that makes us laugh. Often a good meal or a fast run pull me right into a moment. The resulting clarity helps me decide to take things as they come. Early in the pandemic I was blogging consistently, and that was another way of showing up. When Sam died everything got a bit derailed, and here I am, months later regrouping, time and again. To restart, I’m sharing my daily photos from July, around the time where I became less consistent with blogging, as a means of grounding myself in the grace of everyday life. I started my daily photo project when I was recovering from cancer treatment, and it’s rhythm became an established way in the direction of said grounding. Maybe in sharing it’ll help you find or continue on your way too.
July 1- afternoon rain,
hard fitting the mood of the day
focus softened
July 2- CSA bounty. We purchase a share from a local farm every summer, and for months pick up fresh veggies in the town center Thursday nights.
July 3- New hair, COVID style.
July 4- A year to the day after this little one jailbroke the NICU, he’d become a full-on toddler.
July 5- A return to taking family photos, outdoors and socially distanced. I continue to feel so fortunate to get to document families as they grow and change.
July 6- Yes, we did make gnocchi and top it on a bed of kale, and it was buttery, tasty deliciousness.
July 7- You’ll see a theme soon, of summertime blooms. Many, many walks to see the neighborhood changing almost daily. Connecticut shows off every season, and having a summer with part of my hours furloughed meant extra time noticing.
July 8- Holding court.
July 9- I was leaving for work when he left for a morning ride. Not pictured: oppressive humdity.
July 10- Hydrangeas are my sister Bridget’s favorite, so I took this photo to send to her.
July 11- We did a virtual relay, because the race I planned to run in the fall was cancelled. Our team was us and two other couples we love, and it would never be a scenario in the actual race, so it was fun to run with them, if virtually. This was our passing of our baton. Everyone had to wear a headlamp, reflective vest, number and carry a baton, in honor of Ragnar's rules.
July 12- This was a month and a day after Sam’s death, and it was such a hard day. I often use mantras when I run- "strong body, powerful legs, fast feet..." most often. That day I added "heathy and healing heart." It helped.
July 13- Prime napping real estate.
July 14- Millie, the weirdo, loves kale and digs through the CSA bag to find it. Will she eat it until she throws up? Yes, yes, she will.
July 15- This girl loves the sunshine. She’ll lay on the deck for a while and then bark to come back in.
July 16- Again with the neighborhood showing off. This time, at dusk.
July 17- She’s old, and Ty gets so sad when she moves ever more slowly. We’re glad she’s still here.
July 18- These were my first venture into growing something from seeds, and we harvested many, many tomatoes.
July 19- Meal planning. In the background, the table we set up as a desk for me to be able to work at home, a COVID adjustment to our dining room.
July 20- Weather-worn, but we were making it.
July 21- As long as I’ve known him, he’s side hustled fixing up golf clubs and reselling them.
July 22- Fresh onions upgrade everything.
July 23- Wherein he wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag.
July 24- We went to the center for an ice cream on a hot enough day that it melted down my arm before I finished my cone. We walked around, and I had seen this patch of flowers on my runs and was glad to get a photo. We hadn't been to the center together since before COVID, and it felt like a normal summer day for that half hour or so, masks aside.
July 25- One of my best friends in Texas had an engaged sister whose giant Annapolis wedding turned into a small backyard affair on Long Island. I've mostly hung up my wedding hat, but I shot theirs. This was the finale.
July 26- Front yard hangs for a socially distanced catch-up with my friend Cabrini. Moving was a risk in regards to finding new peeps, and Cabrini is one of those people that reminds me that community has a way of building if you’re open to it.
July 27- I had a miscommunication at work, which led to a very long drive, which led to swinging by the house to use the restroom mid-day, which led to sitting on the deck for a minute with the dog, who was happily sunning, which led to balancing the camera on the grill to take this shot.
July 28- Meetings, in the time of corona.
July 29- Proof of life in a post-run selfie.
July 30- These guys fell off the vine before ripening, so salsa verde it was.
July 31- This is one of my favorite photos of 2020. A mother-daughter portrait of one of my closest friends (aforementioned sister to my previously pictured bride) with her girl, a Texas visitor in New York. It was unexpected gift to be able to see them, and this photo really grabbed me when I took it and still does today.