+who am I and why am I here?

Mantis Hill is an alias. My name is Laura. Mantis Hill is the name my husband Dale and I gave to the beautiful land we found in 2002 and have lived on since 2003. Mantises are an omen, oracular and can help you find your way home. The first year we were here there were more mantises than you could count. Hence the name.

Dale and I met in 1998 in Death Valley on a zen backpacking trip. At t;he time I was still in New York and he was in Santa Rosa California. We both had a zen practice with a teacher based at a zendo in the Foothills of Northern California and found ourselves on this backpacking trip at a time when both of our marriages were ending. The spark between us was undeniable and 2 months later I moved from New York to California. Our first year together was a bit up and down because we were both coming out of difficult marriages. But after a year we began living together and got married in 2003 -- the same year we moved to "Mantis Hill."

It was about as idyllic as could be. We are both poets/writers. We shared a zen practice. We loved being in the mountains. We are (were?) the same age. We both cherished books and were able to build a library. For many years we had a camp at Burning Man (before it turned into a huge expensive gathering). After we met Dale wrote 8 more books. I wrote more poetry. It was a beautiful dance we did. We had wonderful energy together. Well that energy still exists. I carry it now for both of us.

In 2014 Dale was diagnosed with liver cancer from having lived for many years with HepC (undiagnosed). Not all that unheard of for folks in our age group who grew up in the 60s. 2014 we traveled back and forth from the Foothills to UCSF each month for treatments. Dale was on the transplant list but his doc didn't think he could keep him alive long enough for him to get to the top of the list. Dale reached out to our community and a live donor appeared and volunteered half of his liver to save Dale's life. The transplant was in March 2015. It was a success and we all breathed once again. The next two years were full of the extra kind of joy you share when you realize how more than lucky you are. However on the Ides of March in 2017 a CT scan showed that the liver cancer had metastasized to his spine.

The wonderful docs at UCSF did everything they could -- radiation, surgery, chemo, more radiation but by the end of 2017 it was clear that they could no longer forestall the inevitable. Dale went on Hospice in December 2017 and passed on January 13, 2018.

Yes -- it will be 3 years next week.

I wandered around in a fog of grief for 2 solid years. I took myself into isolation because I didn't know what to say to anyone and no one knew what to say to me. At some point I found Megan's book and reading it allowed me to begin to attend weekly grief groups at our local Hospice. But I still kept to myself.

A year ago on the second anniversary of Dale's passing (sorry I still cannot use what I call "the d word") I went to a week long intuitive painting retreat. I spent a week with a very supportive group of women and made plans to return to the world. Then Covid struck us all. It was as if the universe was telling me it was too soon for me to rejoin the world. So here we are a full year later and I have been pretty much isolated now for 3 years. Yes, I live alone. I never had children. Dale has a daughter and so I have a step-daughter -- and a granddaughter born 2 weeks after Dale's liver transplant -- but we are not close.

So here I am on this amazingly beautiful 12 acres in the Foothills enjoying the rocks and the trees and the pond and so much nature. Dale is still very much with me. But I knew I had to do something to mark this 3rd anniversary and help me carry this grief which quite honestly is still overwhelming and paralyzing even at the 3 year mark.

I am attaching a photo of the two of us at Burning Man in 2007 that a friend took because of the rainbow.

Apologies -- I am not skilled at FB and so the picture is not in the comments because I am not sure how to do that. And I also apologize for going on so long -- that's the writer/storyteller in me.