Life Support
It’s been decades since I’ve held a yard sale, and co-hosting one last weekend reminded me why. If you consider all the culling, lifting, dragging. hauling, dusting, polishing, pricing, haggling, and then re-packing, re-hauling, and disposing, one is lucky to make two dollars an hour. But I had a good time, because it brought me closer to a member of my beloved widows and widowers support group (W&W), who was kind enough to hold the sale at her house. She and I wouldn’t even know each other if it weren’t for the group, and here we were massively supporting each other in the throes of “downsizing.”
And while we were manning the store, three other members of W&W stopped by, individually. Talk about support! We sat and chatted at length—mourning, laughing, and genuinely appreciating each other’s company.
I’ve written plenty about W&W before (and likely will again), but it’s not my sole source of support since my husband’s passing. I also attend weekly music jams at the Berryville Public Library, which, for me, is like getting a dose of time-released valium—without the chemicals. If I miss a week, I’m agitated. Can’t get right in my soul. I cherish the “Bookworms,” as the jammers are known.
There’s another source of support that helps to keep me afloat: The Eureka Springs Independent (ESI). The editor let me take over my husband’s column, allowing me to publish my thoughts about whatever—on a weekly basis. Having to actually come up with these thoughts, arrange and rearrange them, and get them submitted on schedule has been one more tool in my arsenal of life preservers. The grief of losing a spouse is unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. It threatens to suck me under. Continually. Still. But I can’t go under! I have to write a column!
And as soon as I submit it, there’s another deadline on the horizon. Writing for public consumption has steadied my existence in the face of losing my partner of 35 years.
And I love that the ESI is free. Anyone can pick up a copy—or three—whenever they choose. Tourists and locals alike can view the goings-on in Carroll County, free of charge. What a gem!
But, of course, we know nothing is actually free. I understand that the ESI experiences financial struggles. And I hate to think that we could lose this neighborly periodical to lack of funds.
For decades, I’ve given to public radio as a matter of course. They take money from my bank account every month. (Thus, I feel righteous whenever I’m listening to NPR during the fundraising events.) I can’t imagine life without public radio. Dark days indeed! So I support it. And the fact that those who can’t afford to donate can listen for free is actually a perk, in my book. I want my neighbors to be informed. To have an intelligent news source to turn to.
Same goes for ESI. In the USA, local news sources are drying up quickly—a sorry state for a democracy. I’d hate for us to lose ours. So, what if people chose to support the ESI—at whatever level they can manage? Five or ten dollars a year? A dollar a week? A random donation of whatever moves you in the throes of holiday spirit? And the folks who really can’t afford it will still have access—which is a good thing. One shouldn’t be kept in the dark merely for lack of money.
… And I have some yard-sale monies looking for a cause.