We’ve lived one month in this new town. We introduce ourselves to people when it is appropriate, but I cannot call anyone friend yet.

I know it goes without saying that everyone need to make room in life for anything new. Finding that extra hour for a friend you already have, or a new class, much less finding time for a coffee with someone new is hard. People are already busy and for the most part their life is booked up. I’m not worried, it will happen. A month is a short time, and we still haven’t joined in any group activities. I know community will come.

This town and our neighbourhood is full of friendly faces as well as daily walkers. I see the same people quite often. They are either with their dogs or spouse, or other friend, walking the same route for their constitutional as I do mine. We wave, smile, say hi and move on.

In some ways it is good to not have a Sechelt friend yet. I still get hit with waves of grief quite often, and being in a new place, I am shielded by distance from the sympathy of friends. Ken is always there for a hug, and there is Skype, internet and the phone. A friend is only a touch away. And, really this grief is mine to experience.

Grief is personal. Everyone does it different. It takes what it takes. Fortunately or really, unfortunately… I have practice in grief.

Perhaps I am at the age where losing our loved ones isn’t so rare. Everybody dies. Then again, I think I know more than my fair share of dead people. I’m only 59. Yet, I was surprised when Joe, who isn’t much older than me, said everyone in his family from the generation before him is gone. His parents, as well as all his Uncles, Aunts, Grandparents, etc., are gone. We are the next generation to go.

This morning I decided to start a new memory tree in our yard.

I left the one I created in the training field on Bowen in tact. I did not even think to strip it of the names I placed on it. Just like we would not dig up Lucy, Cricket or Annie and bring them here. I left the copper name plates honouring loved ones lost, hanging on the tree to dance in the wind there.

Today, I carved Kim and Bills name into a copper tag, and as I look out the window I have no idea which tree will become our new memorial tree.

I just know we will choose one. Like making a quilt, hanging names on a tree, helps me grieve.