Ginger

how a digital frame is helping my grief…

The first anniversary of my mother’s death and the first anniversary of our calico Chloe’s death both came recently, and I found myself looking back at the ways I’ve tried to deal with these life transitions and grief over this past year. It’s been difficult – and continues to be — so I use the various things I know to do (several of them I’ve discussed in this blog) to try to move through the days.

A month or so after Chloe died, we decided to put together a paperback book of some of our favorite pictures of her. Using the book feature offered from Google Photos, we spent time going through the many (many!) photos of her to narrow down the ones to include in the project. Once the order was placed, the book was shipped fairly quickly… and we were very pleased with how it turned out.

In addition to the book of some of Chloe’s photos, we also created a small space on the mantle where we put photos of all five cats who have shared our lives. And doing these things led us to think about getting a digital frame, something we’d never seriously considered before.

A dear friend of mine had been given a digital frame a couple of Christmases earlier, and she and her husband enjoyed it so much they decided to have more than one. The times of hearing her discuss their frames must have planted the seed in my mind. But it wasn’t until after getting Chloe’s photo book and putting together the little mantle display of all the cats, that the seed took root.

So we got a digital frame.

And we love it.

Thanks to the convenience and ease and speed of taking digital photos, we have more pictures of Chloe than the other cats, but we made sure to include plenty of photos of the other four too. (As you can see from the pictures below, Chloe wasn’t our first calico kitty.)

The frame remains heavily weighted to feline photos, but we’ve also added pictures of family members, our wedding day, other special occasions and happy memories and favorite places, some scenic pictures that we enjoy seeing again, and even a few photos of my paintings. Many, many of the originals came from pre-digital decades, so this process has meant going through our photo collection and doing quite a bit of digitizing. The results haven’t always been perfect, but that’s okay.

The result we wanted is the result the frame has brought us – smiles and memories and a help with the grief of loss.

Because there have been so many losses.

All of the cats are gone. Most of the family members in the photos are no longer with us. Some of the places in the pictures are places we’ll never see again, whether it’s because we (or our families) no longer live in those homes, or because the locations are ones we probably won’t be able to visit again.

It’s because of all of the losses that I had some concern that the digital frame might actually make things more difficult. That it would be a sharp reminder of the grief without easing it. That it might cause the pain to be even worse. And I think it’s important to keep in mind that it could turn out like that, so if having a digital frame causes you more pain than ease, it might not be the right time (or the right thing) to help your grief.

For us, though, the digital frame has been a help. We keep it on a kitchen counter where we see it often throughout the day. It’s not unusual for us to stop and spend some time looking at whatever photo has randomly appeared, and we remember the good times and the love and the cats and the people.

It has helped me feel even closer to all those who are no longer present on this earth. It has helped me handle the grief.

The frame is only a holder, of course. What helps is seeing the photos. But due to the nature of the digital frame, it keeps the photos part of our day-to-day life in a way they normally wouldn’t be.

The grief isn’t gone, and I still very much miss every cat and every person who isn’t here anymore.

But the frame has been helping the grief.

♥

crochet as calming distraction…

As I’ve talked about in my last couple of posts (here and here), I’ve been really diving into creative activities to help me with stress and anxiety.

Something I’ve recently returned to, after many years away from it, is crochet. My mother taught me to crochet when I was in elementary school, and although I’ve never tackled anything fancy – I’ve kept to simple patterns for the scarves and throws and afghans I’ve made over the years – it was something I enjoyed.

I’d pick it up for a while, make one or a few things, then put it aside for long stretches of time. And because crocheting had started to irritate an old neck injury, when I last put it down a few years ago I wasn’t sure I would ever return to it.

But recently, after hearing a good friend discuss some crochet plans, I unexpectedly had the itch to crochet – even if all I did was make stitches without actually making a thing. It felt like it would be calming and meditative and helpful for me.

So I got out one of my crochet hooks, looked through my limited stash of old yarn, and gave it a go, simply making a long string of stitches.

Immediately, I realized my hunch had been right – it did feel calming and meditative and soothing. It gave me another distraction from worry and anxiety. It gave my hands something to do while I listened to an audio or had a show playing in the background.

Soon, I realized I wanted to do more than a long string of single stitches, and I switched tactics. Even though years had passed, it was like muscle-memory kicked in to start making a simple scarf…and I decided to start making a thing after all.

Needing to be mindful about doing my best to avoid irritating my neck, I crochet only for short bits of time and I don’t do it every day. I need to make sure crocheting doesn’t become a source of stress or tension, I need for it to remain a calming distraction, so I deliberately put absolutely no pressure on myself about how often I crochet or how it ends up.

I’m doing it for the doing of it. For the process. For the meditative and calming effect on me.

Just enjoying the feel of the yarn and the hook and the movement.

And if it actually ends up being a scarf that can be worn, that’s a bonus.

♥

doodling, doodles, and calm…

Life still feels anxious, and I’m still spending time with creativity as a calming distraction. I’m painting and art journaling and writing and doodling and crocheting.

Even outside of how these activities help me when it comes to anxiety and stress, they help me because they bring me joy – they keep me connected with creativity and they light me up. And I can spend time with them even on days I don’t feel up to venturing out.

Doodling is one of those calming and meditative activities that can be done for a minute or an hour, on a big piece of paper or a tiny receipt. I can listen to something in the background or half-watch a show while I use a pen to play.

I’ve been especially enjoying making doodles on small pieces of paper, and I’ll sometimes simply grab an index card from a nearby stack…

Or open up my little moleskin journal and play around there.

It’s fun. It’s relaxing. It’s distracting.

And it’s calming.

Try some doodling (if you haven’t already). It doesn’t matter how it looks, because that’s not the point.

The point is the calming, the play, the letting your fingers move the pen or pencil or marker as you relax into the moment.

The point is simply the doing of it.

♥