I walked by the building, intentionally, on the way home from seeing Woody Allen’s new film “Midnight in Paris”, a poetic reflection on the seeming attraction of former eras. The access to the building is now sealed. Not just boarded over with plywood that I could pry loose. Not even with brick that I might be able to chip away with the right…
Blog
to me….three year ago me.
I will never be able to deliver this letter to myself three years ago in the past. But I can post it here and hope that it will offer some comfort and solace to some of the widows/widowers who come after me ….Dear Me (and You), I know you feel that you died in the moment that you lost Jeff and that you will never have the desire to live again.
I get by with a little help from my friends
As I write this, hundreds of widows and widowers are half a world away at Camp Widow. Finding others who don’t look at them with pity, but with knowing. With love. With friendship…..and while part of me would love to have been able to go, the other part of me knows that it is just not logistically nor financially possible right now (and no,…
An Emotional Time ….
…. was had by all. I am at the San Diego airport, waiting for my flight back to Houston. I am spent. I am exhausted. Physically and emotionally. And I know I’m not the only one. But it’s a good exhaustion. And I know I’m the only person who thinks that.Camp Widow 2011 was a huge success. I’m not talking about a “business success”. Yes, it’s…
Why I go to Camp….
Each year for the past 8 I have participated in the Relay for Life sponsored by the American Cancer Society. As part of fundraising efforts, we have personal pages telling people why we “relay”. I was thinking yesterday as I was traveling home from Camp Widow about the reasons why I come back each year and continue to work on it in the months in…
Something Tangible
There is nothing like a strong embrace. It’s purposeful. It’s grounding. And, it nurtures my soul. I, along with 275 other widowed individuals, attended Camp Widow this weekend. The workshops were great. The wisdom shared was inspiring. And, all of us left with a renewed spirit of hope. I haven’t been touched like this in a very long…
Flooding
I hate to think I need bad stuff to happen to put life in perspective. Haven’t I already tortured myself enough, trying to understand painful life lessons after my wife’s passing? After three years, haven’t I come out on the other side a better person?On the three year anniversary of Lisa’s passing, my parent’s basement flooded due to…
Love
Hey Guys, came upon these at another great blog site . I especially like 4 and 6. Take care, T4… My heart grew somber with grief, and wherever I looked I saw only death. My own country became a torment and my own home a grotesque abode of misery. All that we had done together was now a grim ordeal without him. My eyes searched everywhere for him,…
Plus One
Not long after Chris died, I received a wedding invitation addressed to “Wendy and Guest.” It was one of the first visual affronts to my newly-acquired widowed senses. I remember looking at the envelope and wondering, “Who the heck is Wendy and Guest?” I certainly sympathize with the couple who sent the invitation. I’m confident that they…
The screaming
It started when the policeman told me he was dead. I was still sitting in my car in my parent’s driveway at the time. It was loud. It was hysterical. It was guttural. It was primal. It continued as I was led inside the house, up the stairs. It went on for a long time before I wore myself out.It stopped long enough to listen to the police and the…
We Are More ….
…. than the word, “widowed”. So. Much. More. I used to hate that word. In the first two years out. Hated. Abhorred. Refused to use it or answer to it.I’ve come to learn that’s a very common response. The only widows I knew were older. And I in no way wanted to be associated with them. And then I started forming a group of young widows in my…
Heartbreak, Hot wings, and Hope
Here I am, one of nine men sitting on nine bar stools, all of us without wedding rings. The others look a little older than me but it’s an unfair comparison; in my mind’s eye I’m still 30, the age when I met my wife. But here we are, nonetheless, peers, or at least men of similar relationship status – lonely. Every guy on every stool is…