Feb 14/10: Love

Feb 14/10: Love, originally uploaded by susanvg.

Sometimes life throws you curves of the most wonderful sort. I had been a widow since my young husband died in 1982 . By the time I turned 50 I was content with my life. Children were less dependent; the external demands on my life were lessening and I could just be me - not "mother of" (though that never totally disappears - just evolves). I had time to follow my passions.

I had known Paul for a number of years, having met him at music camp yet we were acquaintances more than friends. Why did it change? Maybe because I was at a point when I looked ahead not behind, when those other burdens (even when they were delightful burdens) no longer tied me down. And now we share our love, our lives and our passion for music. Life has many new beginnings - and yes - it can begin after fifty!

The rings were made by a Toronto jeweler: Vivienne Jones

Day 83: Fifty Fingers - Hands Together

Day 83: Fifty Fingers - Hands Together, originally uploaded by susanvg.

Being part of the 2009/365 Flickr group has been interesting in terms of growing relationships and community. Here are 50 fingers - on 10 hands to represent the connections happening around the world because of the many social tools that live on the web. These hands belong to some of my physical colleagues - they have been a huge part of my learning and support. However, my online relationships have become a large part of my life.

While we learn from each other, we also support each other in personal ways. So these 50 fingers also represent a reaching out to the people who have been part of my photography community and particularly are in response to Tim - who has left many positive comments for me. Today is his brother's 50th birthday; this photograph is also my birthday wish to his brother, Eric. I have never met either of them, but they are now a part of my life.

Day 35: Old Hands

Day 35: Old Hands, originally uploaded by susanvg.

Old hands - they have lived 100 years - performing the myriad of tasks hands do. And now they feel purposeless with no future. I sat with my late husband's mother today and listened to her. At times she spoke with incredible clarity - of feeling that emptiness of nothing to look forward to. At times she drifted into the timelessness of old age, blurring the past and the present.

These hands have washed babies, cooked meals, held cards and caressed. They have scolded, steered a car, selected items while shopping and counted out money. And now they sit idle - except for the wringing of despair as confusion washes over their owner.

As I age will I still be able to focus on moments? Will I be able to find the positives that are left to me as my life diminishes? Perhaps that is what this exercise is all about - learning to live in the slower lane, so when complexity is no longer a choice, I'll be able to live in now.