There was once a small house in Wilton where a replica of The Wizard of Oz’s Tin Man
decorated its front yard. It was so close to the road that anyone driving west along Main Street couldn’t help but notice the statue was not at all out of place in front of its home of fairy-tale colors. At the time, it was a reminder of, or maybe an advertisement for, Emerald City Arts, a business operated on the Milford Oval by the couple who shared this home, Dennis and Linda Anfuso. They were not only merchants dedicated to all things created by Frank Baum, but creative artists themselves. Linda was an illustrator, writer, musician and teacher and Dennis shared her writing, teaching and artistic talents. They both brought creativity to every part of their lives, from running their shop to choosing where they went, what they did, and what they valued, including teaching in various capacities. Occasionally, you might even cajole Dennis into creating an illustrated card personalized for you if one of the ones he made for his shop didn’t quite do the job.
Dennis’s ambition was to add something to the tales Frank Baum wrote. Emerald City Arts became a home where his ideas came to fruition. He began writing and illustrating a series of books related to the Oz story, starting with “The Winged Monkeys of Oz,” published in 1997. It was followed by “The Astonishing Tale of the Gump of Oz” in 2007, “A Promise Kept in Oz” in 2008, and the “Oz House” co-authored with Alan Lindsay, in 2013. Another book was in the works until recently. I’ll get to that later.
One of the things both Linda and Dennis enjoyed was traveling the canals and rivers of
England by boat. Andy and I joined them on one of their trips. I later spent 10 weeks
traveling with Linda by boat, with me opening and closing the gates to the many locks that
make the canals passable over a wide terrain, while she wrote and illustrated her book “Artist Afloat” when she wasn’t piloting our vessel. I was entertained, as were all those nearby, by Linda’s flute playing and voice as she added musical beauty to the world. She had adjusted to living with Muscular Dystrophy, refusing to give in to the demands it made upon her body, but recognized that she needed someone beside her if she was to continue traveling Great Britain by boat while she wrote and illustrated her book.
That was then. The now is a different story.
Although they both continued their creative and teaching lives in Wilton after moving to a larger house on Burnes Hill Road, Linda’s MD worsened, and she became less able to get around.
A few months ago, everything changed for Dennis and ended for Linda when a fire broke out in their home. Because of Linda’s weakened condition, she succumbed to the smoke that filled their bedroom even though Wilton firefighters were able to wrap her in sheets and remove her from the burning building.
Dennis lost everything he valued in life. Not only Linda, but the nearly completed illustrations for a new Oz-based manuscript he had been working on for the past two years as well as everything that filled his and Linda’s lives for over 45 years. The fire was so pervasive that it was miraculous Dennis wasn’t lost as well.
Dennis generously agreed to speak with me despite his multiple losses happening so recently. What he told me may be important messages for others who are dealing with loss as well as for all those who care about their friends’ or family members’ well-being. One thing people don’t realize is the vast amount of legal paperwork that must be handled immediately. Even seemingly simple things like informing insurers or dealing with car titles can become major hassles that no one warns you about.
He repeated one theme as we spoke. Even though he recognized people want to help, what
they may not understand is that those sorting through the immediacy and meaning of their
individual losses may not need advice or offers of help as much as they need understanding
and patience from those around them. Dennis said he must first figure out what is important to tackle and how to deal with a life that is suddenly very different from what it was only a few moments before. For him, he must process this alone while he tests each option. Learning to live with only the walls to talk to is one of those first steps.
This also means he no longer feels he must follow any of the routines that previously guided his life. Bedtimes are now whatever he wants them to be and may be different each day. He has found himself working on illustrations through the night and sleeping when his body says, “I’m tired.” This, alone, has allowed him to almost fully recreate two years of lost illustrations in a little over two months.
Dennis’s comments about dreaming are perfect examples of the depth of the changes he has experienced. He began by telling me he now primarily dreams about traveling to places he and Linda loved to visit and wakes only to discover, with sorrow, these wonderful experiences are not real.
In contrast, he used to have nightmares centered on his desire to fulfill commitments. The
themes of these nightmares often were feeling out of control or trying to reach somewhere
impossible. He has become aware that he now accepts nightmares more easily, saying, “They deal with problems easily solved by just opening your eyes. That’s not true of the dreams I have … the kind people usually hope for.”
Since the fire, Dennis has made a temporary home in Milford while his former home is reduced to rubble. He plans on rebuilding a smaller home in the same spot. His goal is to settle back into the community he has shared with so many friends and acquaintances, but he is unsure how this plan will unfold.
That same uncertainty continues as he works on the new patterns his life will take in the future. Loss is not just a one-directional path. It has many branches, all of which need tending and rebuilding. He knows this will take time and hopes those who know him will be patient as he creates his new path. He also wants others who know someone who has suffered a loss to understand they can help by just being available and accepting that the dynamics of loss are not always easy to fathom.