You and I, my Love, We… Are echoes in the halls of memories. In lands far away and beyond the clouds so beautifully and achingly tinged with vibrant colors, I search for you.Green tinged mountains with trees so tall they reach up into and beyond those clouds, Valleys of rock that jut sharply into one another and, if I squint my eyes, become…
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Joy Isn’t Found in Tap Water
Grief is messy. And, it demands our attention. Grief does not follow a predictable route, and neither should you. There is no road map to follow. You need to find your own way through this. You need to follow your heart and trust your instincts. When your person dies, no one hands you a manual that explains how to handle the cruddy stuff that…
Home is where the heart is
It’s taken me months and months to bring up the courage to go to dinner with a friend. Sounds crazy but she was Clayton’s favorite coworker and he is all we have in common. I knew it hit her hard when he passed and I knew she would want to talk about it. I guess that is just another layer of widowhood that others don’t understand – We want…
An Expert on Death
This afternoon, I was honored to be a guest-lecturer / speaker for a large class of mostly pharmacy students at Ohio State University, who will one day be future practioners. Due to the magic of the inter-webs, I spoke to the large class of students and the professor, from the comfort of my room in smalltown Massachusetts. They are learning about…
She is Missing
I miss the feeling of moving around life’s obstacles as a team of three, as opposed to a team of two; fortunately, I am gradually learning to rely on myself for mental and emotional stability more and more. Natasha and I were good at supporting and pushing each other to revel in the joy of being human. But these days, it is easy to…
Exclamations and Tildes~
Yes, tildes are a thing. Unlike exclamation points, which everyone learns in grade school, you probably won’t recognize the term, though you might very well recognize the symbol itself. Lest you think this is a blog about grammar, let me clarify my why of writing about grammar points. Both of them have played a significant role in my life for the…
Whatever
I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be feeling, now moving towards year 5 since Megan’s death. Shelby is a preteen (and it certainly shows), and moves ever so closer to wanting to spend time with her friends versus us. Her brother is married with a growing family of his own, with two sons that Megan never got to meet. One of our…
StrongISH
Most people on the periphery assume we are strong because they see us doing life. They see us on our driveways. They watch us get into our vehicles as we are on our way to participate in the stuff of living. Yes, we are doing things. They witness it. And, the assumption is that we’ve got this. And, maybe part of us does have this. But, there is…
Social Media Surprises
When Tin passed away, my social media was flooded with posts and photos showing just how much he was loved and how much support I had to lean on taking my first steps on this new beach. Each day had been continued support helping me step forward and weather the waves.Over time, the posts and check-ins faded and I found myself a bit bipolar about…
Grief and Guilt
This post is actually about another chapter of my grief story… the chapter about my dad. But I’m certain that it’s something that will relate to a lot of widows, too, because it touches on a really hard subject… GUILT. While cleaning up the basement the other day, I came across a stack of old greeting cards. I’d known they were there -…
Me, My Daughter and My Anger
Today is my birthday and of course I miss Natasha even more, if that’s even possible. She was always so good at arranging brunch, parties and dinners–Natasha had such a raw flair for celebrations. So, sitting across from my daughter for my birthday dinner is wonderful, but also rather quiet. Why is it just us two? This isn’t…
Don’t Die
“Don’t Die” It’s an instruction that Sarah has given to me as I walk out the door to work more times than I can count. Sometimes, it’s fairly innocuous. Other times, it’s said with a fervent, if not pleading “PLEASE don’t die today”; usually after waking up from a particularly emotional dream. It’s not a “tic” or…