It’s been a hard week. On Saturday I finally received notification from the courts with the date of the preliminary hearing on my foreclosure mediation. I’ve been saying how I’m going to be ok with this whole situation but it’s been much more emotional than I thought it would be. It’s the beginning of the end of something, one way or another. And…
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This Carrying~
A dear friend and Air Force widow sister said to me last weekend, in response to my endless questions to her about this grief (she’s 6 years out), and time frames and, oh, you know, everything…she said this to me, and I’ve reflected on it in the days since. It isn’t that it goes away. We just get stronger, and we carry it differently.Such…
Journey of Self-discovery
It was just a little walk. As we pulled up to the trailhead on Canaan Valley National Wildlife Refuge, there were very light snow flurries. We were at 4100 feet above sea level, and had plans to hike along the western ridgeline at Dolly Sods, the highest plateau east of the Mississippi. Sarah, Shelby, and I took a trip this past weekend to…
The Landscape of Love after Love
I’m writing you this morning from the bed of a roadside motel in West Virginia. The walls inside are all wood, the entire place looking like a big log cabin. It’s cozy feeling, with ruffled curtains, checkered blue and white bedspreads and warm corner lamps. I’ve woken up in a good mood, which I am infinitely grateful for, and hoping I can…
The Home That Doesn’t Quite Fit Anymore
In the past two years and eight months since Dan died, I’ve toyed with the idea of moving out of our house a number of times. We bought our dream home in January 2013. We were married in June 2013 and I lost him to depression only six weeks later, in July. It’s a large, two-story house with enough space for a big family. It’s definitely too big…
Year of New Eyes
Im not sure quite how to say this without sounding all “Oprah”, but for me, this year of 2016, feels like an important year. It feels like it already is and will be an important year in my life, for many reasons. And when I type that, a small part of me gets the chills, because I really need to be more specific when I say things such as that and…
My Life With Grief
I write a lot about how strange and even unrecognizable my life is now. I can’t explain exactly how I got here, but I can tell you a little about what it’s like, just over three years after my husband died. I wake up every morning thinking of Mike. Reminders of him are everywhere in my house, on this island, and in my heart and mind. So in…
The Meaninglessness of Time~
I think, often, of time. What it used to mean. What it meant in our hospice time. What it means in the years since my beloved husband died.Chuck and I spent 24 years of time together. Time that we found AA together, raised a blended family, socialized with friends, worked…we spent our time as many couples do. Being busy but never too busy to…
A Toast to Drew
Drew, It’s been over a year since I really started getting to know the person you were. Yesterday was your birthday, and as Sarah and I had a beer, we toasted to you. We sat quietly on the couch, tapped our bottles, and watched television for the rest of the evening. I wanted to write you a note about things. There weren’t any big…
The Widow Word
Over the years, I’ve been asked many times what I think of the word widow, and specifically if I’d prefer we use a different word that has a more positive connotation to label the widowed experience. When the word widow first applied to me, I told myself that I hated that word. I shuddered every time I used that word to describe myself, and…
A Recipe for Life after Loss
So here we are again, at yet another holiday in the “after” life… only this one for me is very different. Firstly, I’m in Ohio, not Texas. Mike, Shelby and I are up early. The two of them are in the kitchen starting to cook up a feast for Easter while I write this. In about 5 hours, Mike’s family will be over and we will be doing a whole…
Re-claiming a Simple Pleasure
DISCLAIMER: Post about alcohol When Dan died unexpectedly from depression, the PTSD had such an effect on my body, I couldn’t tolerate alcohol. A glass of wine or two and I’d either be catatonic and sleepy or violently ill. This was probably a blessing in disguise at the time because believe me, I tried to drink – I would have LOVED to drink.