I continue to astonish myself. I just this morning realized what’s going on for me now, why I’ve been kinda crazy/depressed/freaked the last three weeks.

What’s wrong with me? Well, I’d parked Allen’s artwork with friends, but now that I’ve found a good home for it, I’ve been going through it, organizing it and getting it ready for transfer to the GLBT Historical Society. This has been ripping off scabs, or maybe better said, it’s been tearing open wounds I had thought were totally healed…all those memories, bitter and sweet, plus some photos of both of us I had forgot existed.

So without understanding why, I’ve been just looping. Many days I’ve barely been able to crawl out of bed and then kept retreating there. On other days, I’ve been so wound up that I couldn’t sit still long enough to actually do anything, so I’ve been reading voraciously. Anything to keep from dealing with more of those memories.

Damn me, he’s been dead nineteen years now, and I’m still not over him. Not that working on a bio of him for the Society has helped.

The good news is that finally realizing what was going on sent me into a frenzy of activity today, and I completed getting all that stuff ready and took it down to the Society. It’s now all in their hands….well, except for a few framed pieces I had tucked away and will take next week.

And backing up one notch, here’s an old cemetery that sits next to the farm:

Schaghticoke cemetary

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