Dale Edouard Walston passed away on October 16, 2024, peacefully, at home, in his own bed, with care from Blue Water Hospice and 24/7 home care, and of course me, always there. He was about 6 weeks away from his birthday, and about 7 weeks away from our 50th anniversary.   Living with a partner/husband for 50 wonderful years, with so much travel in our history, so many shared moments, laughter and sadness, ups and downs, memories of a lifetime together--a good life that not many people get to experience.  For the first few months after his passing I was kept incredibly busy settling our estate, moving joint rights of survivorship from our names to my name alone.   This was exhausting, and required months of sitting at my desk, filling out paperwork, getting documents notarized, dealing with situations that required so many business days to complete, mistakes, confusion, corrections, and on and on.  Seven months later, in May of 2025, I booked a small group tour to walk a portion of the Camino de Santiago from a few miles outside of Leon, Spain, all the way to Santiago de Compestela, a distance of about 145 miles in 10 days.  It was an extraordinary experience of healing, of walking through beautiful landscapes--mountains, green valleys, Medeival villages, ancient bridges, forests, wineries, and meeting many other pilgrams on a similar journey of healing.  I cried every day that I walked which was at the time grueling but worth every step.  Before leaving I had steroid injections in both of my knees and my back, which I was told would probably need surgery to correct the deteriorations from osteoarthritis.  Four months later I headed back to Spain via Paris where I was able to visit the newly restored Notre Dame, a cathedral Dale and I had visited in the past, as well as the Musee de Orsay which had always been closed when we made attempts to visit this remarkable museum.  My itineray was to walk all of the Camino I had not already walked, about 372 miles in about 28 days.  I had continued training at home by walking as many miles per day as I could manage, learning various walking gaits, how to handle steep uphills and downhills and some very unstable, rocky terrain.  All my hotels were booked.  I took the train from Paris to St. John Pied de Port, France, which is the beginning of the Camino de Santiago Frances, the most traversed of all the paths leading to Santiago de Compestela.  After a couple of rest days SJPP I began my walk one day one to Valcarlos, and from there to Roncellvalles, then to Zubiri, then to Pamploma where I was scheduled for two nights, one of several rest days before reaching my final destination.  From the beginning of the walk, I felt weak and was having night sweats, but I was determined to push ahead no matter what.  Each day my weakness worsening and I found it more difficult to simply get up and move.  By the time I got to Pamplona I was exhaused and my knees were killing me as was my back.  I later discovered I had contracted Walking Pneumonia, probably from the massive shoulder to shoulder crowds at Notre Dame.  I went to an emergency room in Pamplona and was told if I continued walking I would be doing permanent damage to my body, so I had no choice but to return home.  My second Camino experience was quite different from my first, but each Camino experience always has something to offer, a unique experience of learning about our deeper selves.  It is my plan to return.  In the meanwhile, so much has happened that has, at times, exhausted me.  I went ahead and scheduled the much needed back surgery, which was the fusion in the lumbar spine of L4 and L5 vertebra.  The time period leading up to the surgery was characterized by extreme, disabling back pain, was managed by Austin Advaned Care and after many trials with medications, I ended up taking a large dose of hydrocodone along with Gabapentin.  After the surgery was completed, I had to be careful so as to allow the healing to take place, therefore I was unable to attend yoga classes as I was warned against bending, lifting, and twisting.  But, the operation was successful and the most difficult part of it all was getting off of my addiction to the hydrocodone.  In the meanwhile, I discovered that I had to have some significant foundation work done on my house, followed by a complete reworkng of the French drains that surround the northern and eastern areas of the house, to help maintain the foundation.  I then decided to make the sunroom my main room living area only to discover that the current setup could not handle the heat load.  So, after doing some research, I had a Mitsubishi mini-split installed which thus far has been nothing but problematic.  I believe they put in too small a unit, and I have been dealing with the company for months now to come to a resolution.  I have kept my attorney up to date on everything and hopefully this undersized unit will eventually get replaced properly without the need for legal action.  It has been incredibly time consuming.  I also decided that it was time to have my L knee replaced surgically and that was done over 5 weeks ago and still I am dealing with painful inflammation and effusion of the knee joint, although everything else went well.   I am not skilled, to say the least, at dealing with pain.  

Five months after Dale passed away, a skinny, scrawny, emaciated young male tom cat showed up and decided to stay.  I trapped him and had him neutered, fully vaccinated, fully tested, and chipped.  Over the following year I watched as he transformed into one of the most beautiful, sweet, gentle cats I have every known.  His fur grew long and thick and early this spring I noticed that he had had developed matts all over his body, and research showed that he had to be professionally shaved as the knots were like cruel hands pulling at his body.  After the professional groomer finished her work, I took him (Tiger) to the vet and had his 3 year rabies vaccination, brought him home, and let him outside that night.  The next morning he showed up for food and was exceptionally friendly and affectionate, purring and rubbing his head against my hand and allowing me to gently pass my hand over his newly shaved body.  He ate his meal and it was then I noticed how much healthy weight he had gained over the past year.  After that morning breakfast, I never saw him again, and that has now been nearly 6 months ago.  I searched endlessly, notified all the neighbors, have kept in touch with the local shelter and distributed many posts of his photo and the fact that he is missing.  I doubt I will ever know exactly what happened to him, but I do know that he was fed, he was loved, he was named, and he had the best year of his life here, his home, and a place he came to love.  To this day I miss him and have a small kernel of love in my heart that will never go away and I will always hope that if he is still alive, he will somehow find his way back home.  

I have been seeing a grief counselor/therapist, attended a day long grief retreat, and have read several books on grief, and read a healing grief card every day.  I have read that the second year of widowhood can be worse than the first, and I find this to be true for me.  Suddenly, one is faced with living alone, making decisions alone, and eventually realizing a new chapter of your life is right in front of you and one needs to know how to keep moving forward in a way that honors each new moment in this new chapter.  It has not been an easy transition.  Although my health is exceptionally good for someone of my age, 74, my body is requiring medical intervention more than I would like, such as osteoarthritis whereby my knees are now bone on bone and my lumbar spine developed scoliosis.  The spinal surgery went well and will continue healing for many more months.  My knee surgery also went well, but my recovery has been challenging, to say the least.  The pain from inflammation and effusion has been exhaustingly difficult with near intolerable pain without significant relief, despite many attempts at pain control.  At this juncture, I dread the idea of going through this again with my other knee that also needs to undergo a similar surgical procedure.  I don't think I have much choice but to eventually go through with the procedure.  My surgeon did an excellent job as is proven by my cat scans and x-rays, but my care team through the surgeon's practice has not been exemplary, to phrase it kindly.  I am now back again seeking relief through Austin Advanced Pain Care, where I should have gone immediatly post surgery.  I also discovered that for reasons unknown, my immune system began aggressively laying down scar tissue over the knee, something that happens to about 1-6% of knee surgery patients.  As a result, I had to go back into the hospital and have an MUA (manipulation under anesthesia) whereby the doctor manipulates the leg to break up all the scar tissue.  Then, immediately afterwards, I must begin a rigid, disciplined physical therapy program, once a day for 2 to 3 weeks with an at home CPM machine (continuous passive motion).  This machine is a way of keeping the knee bending for about 6  hours a day, plus home and clinical physical therapy.  Once again, the pain has been tremendous, resulting in pain meds that are very addictive.  Today, in addition to my regularly scheduled physical therapy plus time on the CPM machine, I am scheduled for a lymphatic massage.  My leg has been so swollen that fluid sometimes leaks out through pores.  This is called weeping edema.  It is hard to imagine that when this knee heals, I am needing to have the other knee undergo the same surgical procedure.  The MUA was successful as was the use of the CPM machine.  I just this week reached 130 degrees of flexion (my extension has not been an issue at all).  So, I keep on doing therapy, icing, moving forward with what is in front of me.