Since the death of Jeff, I am ALWAYS searching for reason or explanation for each occurrence that unfolds in my life. I have become adept at looking for, and most often finding, the “bright side”. Searching out the blessings. The gifts that, however difficult to see initially, reveal themselves as the shock of trauma wears away.I have found that…
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three days.
out a window. through the branches. a tea room. a restaurant. third street. a short walk from my former home. our former home.for the last three days i’ve stared out that window. through those branches. at all of the places we used to visit. the circumstances that led me to this place, still unbelievable (when i allow myself to think about them).
Am I Turning My Husband …..
Am I turning my husband….. …. into a saint? After really sitting down to think about it and to honestly delve into the recesses of my mind (which was an exhausting trip, by the way) …. I think I can honestly say …… no.I know, as do we all, that we tend to remember more of the good times after someone dies. I also know, that many people…
The Occasional Landmine
So I did a little beginning of the new year organizing: cleaning out old files, sending things to Goodwill. I opened a box I apparently hadn’t opened since it had been packed in 2007. The box contained some of Daniel’s books, all of the condolence cards I received after the funeral, and his LiveStrong notebook. The books were mostly financial in…
It’s 3:00AM
And I can’t sleep. This used to be a normal time to be sitting at my computer fingers tapping, and tears streaming down my face. I can’t count the number of times my feelings have been pounded out on my keyboard, but its been a good long time since the familiar ache of missing Phil has kept me awake into the wee hours of the morning. My heart is…
Death Sucks
I was wearing this t-shirt the other day. It was a “you think your life is bad, I dare you to try mine” day. I was feeling righteous. I was feeling mad. I was feeling “How dare you world go on and leave me here, in this life, struggling today to just do enough. How dare you!”I was willing to take it out on any poor sap who dared comment about death…
Here We Go
It’s here. My fourth year of not being able to refer to my love alive. But as somber as it sounds, it’s also my fourth year of being living proof of just what the power and strength of love can get you through.I’ve never set resolutions and hopes for each year, other than just trying to find more good days than bad in the months ahead….even if…
flying solo
I am finding this new responsibility of being thrust into the world of solitary decision making terrifying…But I am doing it and it’s okay. I would prefer to bounce all these thoughts, necessary choices and responsibilities off to Jeff, but I can’t. So as I forge ahead with my life alone, I am finding these mountains that I am climbing difficult;…
things could be (and have been) worse.
four different airports in three different countries in 24 hours. packed tightly with pissed off adults. and. countless. SCREAMING. babies.most people would (understandably) hate such a situation. but with a little perspective those annoyances seem so minor. (i’m sure you can relate). and after a few days away from my child, those screaming babies…
Just Call Me ….
Just call me……… Sybil. I very often feel like I have a split personality. I have passed the three year mark. I find these words difficult to absorb even as I type them. Hell, I never expected to live out the first year. And then I knew I wouldn’t survive the second. I often thought that it was a shame that I couldn’t just “think myself” to…
Waves for the Little Ones
One night last week G and I snuggled up on the couch for a little mid-holiday chaos downtime. We scrolled through the on-demand movie selections and settled on Nanny McPhee Returns. The original movie was really cute so we were looking forward to it.The setting of this movie is WWII England. The story consists of a mom and three kids struggling to…
I Had A Dream
I had a dream. Well, first of all, just having a dream is significant for me. I can count the number of dreams I have had since Michael died on one hand. As with most dreams, there was no significant sense of time or place. In my dream I was returning home, which actually wasn’t my home. What was disturbing was that someone had stolen our bed. At…