I’m so sad that Chuck died and I don’t know anymore if it’s sadness that is emptiness inside me or emptiness with sadness and there is a burning wish in my soul to force myself into some semblance of feeling again, of connectedness again. In the last few weeks I’ve caught a glimpse, I think, into the world of soldiers and Marines who return from…
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Fractured Relationsships
In my extended family, there’s another young widow, a suicide survivor. Yesterday, from a distance, I saw the effects of grief on her family and friends when all the disagreements, resentments, anger, frustrations, disappointments and grudges amongst each other exploded on social media. The issues have popped up occasionally, but not to…
Life Piles Up
It is the middle of May, now, and we are moving toward the anniversary of your death. Sunday, May 24th, is the day the police came to tell us they had found your son, dead, in his flat. I remember that moment as if it happened yesterday. It was a Saturday afternoon, and we had not long returned from our weekly shop. We were relaxing on the sofa,…
A Day to Celebrate Love
When my husband died, I was still in the process of integrating in to his ‘before life’ and forming connections with his friends. We lived in Brisbane and he was from Sydney, so most of his close friends weren’t local and we therefore didn’t get to hang out with them regularly. I knew they were wonderful people though, lots of fun, loyal…
Things in Common
This might sound kind of silly or stupid or not at all important in the grand scheme of things related to losing one’s life partner to death – but just bear with me, if you don’t mind. It’s how I’ve been feeling lately, and I feel the need to get these thoughts out. There are a lot of things that my husband and I had in common. A lot of things.
Our Old Lives
“I want my old life back.” I’ve heard a lot of widowed people say that, as I have, and continue to, some days. I miss a lot of little things about being married to Mike. It was a comfortable, familiar life, after nearly 14 years of marriage. I can still hear him shuffling across the tile floors, whistling. The refrigerator door opening and…
Time Spent
Seriously there are just not enough hours in the day. And then when I think about it, there aren’t enough days in the year, or years in a life. There’s always so much to do…so much stuff to deal with, bills to be paid, shopping and work to do…I can’t remember being this busy when Mike was still alive, at least after we closed our…
Words
Twisting. Writhing. Hurting. Shrieking. Vomit urge. Nerves on skin. Racing pulse. Butterfly stomach. Dislocated. Disoriented. Discombobulated. Longing. Yearning. Starving. Reaching. Empty arms. Full heart. Meat-slicer in chest. Passion with no place to go. Love with no release. Wandering. Roaming. Searching.
The First Mother’s Day
Two days ago, I experienced my first Mother’s Day without Megan. Had you asked me back in January how I would have handled it, I would have expressed sheer terror at the prospect. At that time, just two months since losing her, all I could imagine was that I would be an emotional train wreck, and would probably have just called my mother and…
Nero’s Cry
This week, on an animal sanctuary in Southern Spain, I am surrounded by rock, and the nude, bare earth echoes the inner emptiness I feel. In England, all that green and growing doesn’t match my insides. Here, this rock, this heat, this rugged blend of pine and desert wildflower, poking up from parched earth, speaks to my spirit. Here, amongst this…
My Two Mother’s Day
I have struggled with Mother’s Day all my life. I lost my own mother when I was nine, many of you know. I don’t really remember my father knowing what to do with that day anymore afterwards. We had no other family around to celebrate, and so it just kind of became a non-holiday in our house. I sometimes wish we had continued to make it about her -…
Writer’s Block
NOTE: I wanted to start my post this week by thanking everyone who left such lovely and supportive messages on my last piece – Scared of the Anger. To receive your support after allowing myself to be so vulnerable really warmed my heart. I love our widowed community! — At every week’s end, I sit down to write this blog and sometimes…