Six long months after it started, I paid the contractor his last check when he finished the renovation and I gave him a bottle of wine.  During those 6 interminable months, I sublet a furnished studio apartment in the East 30’s in Manhattan.  I had 2 suitcases of clothes to get me through the change of seasons in NY from January to June, and a pillow.  All my earthly possessions were being stored in a warehouse in the South Bronx.

And then, finally, after the clean-up of plaster dust and the move in, which reunited me with my previous life stored away in the South Bronx, I was able to make my first meal in the new kitchen.  Almost immediately, I planted some ivy in a window box to remind me of the backyard I left behind in my old house.

I’m in an apartment on the Upper West Side in Manhattan now, 2 blocks away from the apartment where my husband proposed when we were both seniors in college.  It’s very much a bittersweet end to this particular part of my widowingon journey.  He’s not here with me.