My daughter has a friend over for a playdate today and it has been a good introspective snapshot of where I am at. I keep thinking that I have all of this new confidence, but some remnants of the old me remain, like persistent weeds that always finds new tunnels to the surface. My daughter has a friend over for a playdate…
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Nobody Remembers (Repeat)
Kelley Lynn is out of town this week and is not able to post her weekly Friday blog, so we went back to a post she wrote 5 years ago about the weight that comes with making sure our loved ones are remembered. Even five years later, we’ll bet that many of you can relate to her words… If you are widowed, and you are reading this, then you know…
A Thousand Years Ago~
A thousand years ago I leaned down Placed my hands to each side of your sunken cheeks Closed my eyes, As yours were closed, And so very gently kissed your lips that had gone completely white As you took your last breath.A thousand years ago As I kissed your lips, As I’d kissed them thousands of times before This time now, for the last time… My…
Hiking Ahead
Shelby has now, quite literally, walked in her mother’s shoes. It’s odd to me that, at the age of 12, she actually fits in them, but then again, she isn’t stricken with the growth-impeding disease the Megan had. After buying her new hiking shoes and boots for years, we decided to have her try on Megan’s last pair. They fit her almost…
Does this ever get easier?
I had these exact same thoughts a year ago; and, tonight I wonder if any of this ever gets easier. Am I a lousy widow? Am I doing this wrong? What the hell am I supposed to do? What can I do to make any of this better? Is this even possible. Is it fair to assume that I will recover from Mike’s death? Still, 2.5 years later almost every thought…
“Me Too”
I’ve felt abnormal my whole life. Ever since I became aware of how my own childhood with a single father who was an alcoholic was far different from the seemingly idyllic 2 parent households of all the other kids at my private school. I’ve never fit in. I’ve never felt like I fit in. Largely, because of death and grief. When my mom died, I…
Defiantly Defined
So this blog is a bit different than I usually write. This week I’ve been obsessed with terminology. Have you ever stopped for a minute and thought about words? Where did they come from? How they got their meaning and if they fit? Well it hit me this week that I HATE the terms widow and widower. I think the definitions are ridiculous and need to…
Socializing While Grieving
Seems like being a widower means adjusting my view of the world to an existence of being damaged, marred and/or scarred for the rest of my life. Life is now about managing the constant reminders of love lost. Maybe, just like my poor eyesight, my grief is becoming a deficit that I will have to carry forward as I am constantly reminded…
Trauma Return
Yesterday something happened at a doctors office that sent me straight back into 23 years ago, when I just barely lived through a traumatic event, and joined the ranks in becoming the 2-words that I would grow to absolutely loathe ,and feel shame about for a very long time: rape victim. After awhile, I began shifting from using the term…
Celebrations Realization~
I spent Mother’s Day with our youngest son and his wife and 2 year old son. They were loving and lovely and welcoming and it was a totally enjoyable time. Even as it was heart ripping and filled with emotion because, you know…dead husband.I’m in year 6 of this widowed life. You’d think I would have calmed the fuck down by now, right? In the…
Outsider
A month from today, Sarah, Shelby, and I will be hitting the road for Texas. It is time for our annual “Drewfest” weekend, where Drew’s closest friends gather to remember him, celebrate him, and in general, have a fun time like the “good old days”. Personally, this will be my fifth Drewfest. I’ve been part of them since 2015, a few…
Where Are You Mike?
I often say aloud, “Where are you?” I hold my hands out in front of me and hope to sense him in the air. I miss his physical presence and sometimes the lack of it makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. This widow life, it is…