Write about a year ago.

Forsythia (Yellow Bells) blooms
Easter Sunday 2011
Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, Westchester County, New York

Today is Easter Sunday. A year ago on Easter Sunday I had no hope. I weighed nearly 270 pounds, I was depressed, lonely, full of negativity, self-recrimination, guilt and grief (over Azim's death). I lived in fear. A student in one of my classes was bullying me mercilessly and the college would do nothing to help me. I hated my job, hated my students, even though I love literature and love to teach it. My house was in foreclosure.

I had first written to Steven in early March 2010, and his first letter to me is dated March 15th. By Easter we were beginning to write regularly, sharing more and more of ourselves with each other. By Easter, a slight glimmer of hope had begun to pierce the darkness that had engulfed me oppressively since Azim's death in January of 2008.

Now, a year later, I have hope. I have lost more than 50 pounds. I found out on Friday that I am in the second round of interviews for an ELI Director's position at a private college in Wisconsin; I am very excited at the prospect of moving there if I get the job, I will be there by the end of July, which means I will finally be able to leave this vortex of hell known as "New York." 

I have made several friends over the past year. Even though my relationship with Steven is nearly unraveled, I am at peace with its demise and ready to move on.

One of my photographs was chosen to compete in the Westchester County Amateur Photograph Contest at the Greenburgh Library (this is an honor in itself, even if I don't win one of the prizes), and I am preparing to enter in another contest.

I am writing my memoir on my relationship with Azim. The backstory that is emerging is healing. I am facing many of my personal demons and coming to terms with my character flaws and shortcomings. A year ago, I was paralyzed at this prospect and unable to write.

I have taken up birding (invested in a good pair of binoculars) and am learning to recognize bird calls. This morning while driving to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery to photograph spring blooming, a Great Egret flew alongside my car for a couple of miles as I drove up Route 9 towards Ardsley. A year ago I was too immersed in my pain to have noticed the graceful, powerful Egret.

I am mostly content with my isolation, not lonely that often, and mostly feeling hopeful about the future. At least for today.

A year ago my life was dreary and meaningless. Today it still feels dreary and meaningless, but I hang on to hope.