I spent my 3 day weekend building the frame a double swing backyard entry gate for a friend. True to form, I worked my darnest to make it perfect. And it ended up being just as perfect as I could get it. Both sides swing perfect, and they line up exactly in the middle when closed. The hard job was building the framework. The easy part will be putting up the actual fencing. I so love it when things turn out well. I never built such a complicated gate system before. I was able to think it through.

And in the building of the gate, I realized how much I enjoy doing things for others. It felt so good to do something for someone else again. Understand, my house has been torn apart for a complete interior renovation I started DIY last September. I lived in a spotless home for 30 years. Now, I live in the world's fanciest dog house with my Healer named Blue, short for Blue Jean Baby Queen. Seems I don't care much for taking care of myself or my own home. If you saw what a mess I live in, you would see a crystal clear reflection of how I detioriated over the past 2 years.

In about 5 hours, it will be exactly 2 years into LWJ. I had made that note in my calendar the night she died when I came back from the hospital. I saw it a number of months later and for the life of me, I couldn't remember what I meant by that. Took a while, a week or maybe a month or two, but I remembered. LWJ. Life Without Juanita. Looking back over the past 2 years makes me wonder if what I've gone through has been life. It certainly was the end of life as I knew it. Nearly everything I did for 30 years was in some way or another for Juanita. I did alot for her 2 kids, but I did that too for Juanita. It's been tough having no one to do things for these past 2 years. Lord knows I have no motivation to do anything for myself. But there is hope. I mowed my weed patch of a yard today. Used to have the prettiest yard around. That too went to the bye-and-bye.

Looking back at my wild and crazy escapades, especially over the past year, brought me to the realization that I was looking to be rescued. Never let a drowning person grab onto you. You will both drown. Drowning people reach out to be rescued. It's called survival. Most of my grief time is a blur, but then so too is the times I thought myself okay and over it. I was drowning but didn't even realize I was in trouble. The one constant in my life has been my job at the food bank. Using my talents to help feed 4300 local families a year, about 13,000 if you count the kids and others in the households. And helping to provide food to another 32 food banks in a 5 county area here in central Washington. Lots of hungry mouths to feed. Another thing I don't do for myself. My motivation is helping to feed the hungry. And through it all, it is my job that kept me going. Hell of a lot better way to live than the billable hour nightmare of practicing law. No comparison actually.

So as I continue to figure out who this Scott is that me and Blue wake up to every morning, I wonder why am I so different today than the person I knew myself to be 2 years ago? Definitely cured of being a workaholic. Definitely have learned to embrace the moments. And for the first time in my life, I think I'm learning to relax. I'm 59. Where did all those years go. Good years. Good marriage. A home filled with love. When you have that, time flies.

The point of this rambling is that I recognize that I always viewed myself as a rescuer. And I played that part for many years. And then this rescuer got thrown into a pit with seemingly no way out, and needed rescued for the first time in his life. Raised in an alcoholic home, got to watch my natural mother drink a quart of whiskey a day. Never saw her again when my father and his new wife literally ran her out of the state. Became an alcoholic myself by age 16. I heard my natural mother died of liver disease when I was 17. Coming up on 19 years sobriety. Lost a home to a landslide. Had a stepson that was doing hard drugs for 10 years. Juanita and I had some years of plenty and some years of famine. But through it all, we had each other and we hung on tight. We survived it all. Except for the cancer. God, I never ever imagined life without her. And I never realized how badly I needing rescuing after she died. Rescuing the rescuer. But you know, life has a way of working out if you just let it. Someday, I'll get back to my remodel. I guess it all starts somewhere. And I got a gate frame built this weekend. Build the frame people. Build it strong. Take your time. Everyone of us has to build a new life from scratch. I salvaged what I could from the dilapated 50 year old fence gate on my friend's property. It looked rotted, falling apart, been repaired so many times through the years that there just wasn't much structure left to salvage. But the bones were good. Needed reinforcing. Needed to be made better. Needed to be stronger. And that gate will now last another 50 years. So take your inventory, and build on what you want to keep. Put the rest out with the garbage. Every one of us has to build the frame for a new life we can't even see or think about, and certainly not plan for. Take your time and make it stronger than what you had before. Because we all found out that life as we knew it came tumbling down. And yet, here we are still. Go Team! ~~~ Scottie