I have my share of insecurities, anxiety, and self-esteem issues. It’s a hell of a paradox for me to admit, on a public blog no less, that I’m insecure, but i need to get it out. For as long as I had Megan, i was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was a constant self-loathing that I wasn’t good enough to deserve her, or…
Blog
It Took Me Ten Years
Sunday morning I decided to clean out my pajama drawer. Knowing I tend to be a bit of a clothes hoarder (imagine if I’d saved all my clothes from the 80’s!), I went about my task with the internal mantra, “If you haven’t worn the item in one year give it away.” That philosophy worked well until I dumped a pile of clothes on the floor to sort, and…
The Trauma of Going Home
I’m down in Texas this weekend. It’s my first visit in almost 6 months since moving to Ohio. Drew’s little sister is graduating… or actually, just did, yesterday. I arrived here on Thursday morning and immediately felt that beautiful rush of comfort of the familiar. The old, wide oak trees, the rolling hills, the warmth of the Texas heat… it…
Taking Another Step Forward
I’m exhausted. I’ve been packing, cleaning, sorting and lugging boxes all day, actually no – for weeks now. My bones ache, my feet are sore and I’m typing this through bleary eyes. On Monday morning, two guys in a van will be pulling into the driveway of my big family home, filling it with all my precious possession and moving me into my new…
The 5-Year Itch
This July 13th will be the 5-Year mark. 5 years since my beautiful husband Don, left for work, and never came home. 5 years since I got that terrible bone-chilling phone call that jarred me awake at 6:30 am, and changed my life forever. 5 years that I have been a widow. In addition to this being my fifth year of widowhood, it also brings with it…
Mother’s Day Thoughts
As widowed people, most holidays will come with some sort of a bump or lump. We are socked by memories; how we spent the last 4th of July together, that empty chair at the Thanksgiving table, that Memorial Day weekend we traveled somewhere fun. This past weekend was Mother’s Day, which carries no less emotion for many of us. Often there are…
Motherless Day
My mother, daughter, and girlfriend have all lost their own mothers at a young age, all to different illnesses. Each of their moms had to stare their own mortality square in the eye, and hope for the best for their daughters. They did everything they could to love and protect their little ones in the time they had, but ultimately, they had no…
The Accidental Mother, Part 2
I have the ironic honor of always writing on Mother’s Day, being the Sunday writer here at Widow’s Voice. Ironic because it always forces me to evaluate my feelings about a holiday I have mostly chosen not to celebrate since my own mother died when I was young. I hate this day, or at least, I mostly always have. But this post isn’t about that.
Not Selfish
Last night I was telling someone about Dan. I spoke candidly about my widow journey since his death, and in particular, how his suicide had impacted on me. It’s nearly been two years and ten months since his death and when I remember back to that first year in particular (as well as the second) it can feel like a lifetime ago while also being…
Gratitude and Perspective
The “big day” was this past Friday, the court date for the preliminary hearing for my foreclosure mediation. And it was just a lot of build up for nothing. It got postponed until June 17. Some guy who was supposed to be there wasn’t and the judge wasn’t happy…ultimately I think it’s going to look good for me. My friend Sarah went…
On Living an Unconventional Life~
I have a difficult time defining my life to myself since Chuck died, never mind anyone else. Not that I need to explain it to anyone, but, holy shit, does it come up in conversation. Not just this widowhood, but my lifestyle. I full-time on the road, as many of you know. In the last year I’ve taken more time off the road than I ordinarily would…
A Letter from Before, and Beyond
The time has finally come to clean up the basement of my house. When I say that, I don’t mean that I need to go through and organize some of Megan’s things. I mean that the entire basement, full of god-knows-what from Megan, myself, and Shelby needs to be perused, bit by bit. When we moved to this house (for the second time, long story) 4…