This is a picture of Grayson and I waiting for Amtrak to take us to Disneyland almost 4 years ago. If you look closely, you can see Daniel’s reflection in the glass behind us. He’s taking the picture. I didn’t realize until he was already gone that his reflection was captured in the photo, and he looks for all the world like a ghost, sort of…
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The Death March
I dread deathiversaries, with my whole soul, as my daughter would say. This dread is instinctual, and has nothing to do with how happy I am in my current life. The creeping feeling of impending doom sneaks up on me at the same time every year, and at odd times when I am distracted by nostalgia or lost in a happy memory. Sometimes the feeling of…
Just One
Four years after Phil’s death, I am still trying to work out how to do twice as many tasks with half the amount of hands. The anniversary of his death stirs up emotions for the kids each and every year. You would think I could anticipate their reactions to this day of remembering by now, but I can’t. My own walk down memory lane includes my…
I’m Fighting
Michael and I fought….or as I called it….debated, over who took the trash out or burned whose clothes ironing. The minute…the small things. But out of those small things, simple and silly things, I found the most important thing to fight for… And that is our love.After losing Michael, I did not fathom the amount of adversity that comes…
Woman’s Intuition
Here in the North East, most public schools began their fall sessions this week. My sister, a first grade teacher, told me in an email that never in her life had she heard so much crying, five and six year olds being asked to leave their parents, many for the first time. According to my sister, “The sound of sobbing was everywhere.” I thought…
When Memories Fail Me
I remember crying silent but painful tears in the back seat of someone’s car… we were running an errand for the memorial service and barely above a whisper, I asked, “What if I forget…” they too began to weep with me. Finally, they cleared their throat to answer, “You’ll always have your memories.” I find that statement less than accurate.
I Miss Touch
I have decided to carry on Michele’s theme of “What I Miss” on Sunday. Because for the past week or so one fact has been glaring me in the face ….. and all over me: I miss being physically touched.Note that I did not say I miss being sexually touched (not that I don’t) but those are two very different things. I live in a house with two teenage…
The Death Anniversary
There are lots of fun observations to be made about the picture above…let’s not go there 😉 What I love about this picture is that it reminds me of a great day on a great vacation with a great friend. I think I’ve said before that I sometimes have to remind myself of all the good things and make a list. It’s always a long list of good things, and…
What I Have Forgotten
My journey as a widow began four years ago today. Four years seems like both an eternity, and an instant. Standing at the foot of his emergency room bed that day, watching his pulse rate drop to zero, I saw the road ahead of me very clearly. Alone. That was the word that my brain screamed. Alone. At first I didn’t want to touch his things, for…
What I Miss
I miss familiarity. I miss being known. I miss lapsitting. I miss having a guaranteed birthday celebration. I miss the knowledge that if I break down on the road Phil is coming for me. I miss every day cell phone calls, transmitting news by just a look, and the daily irritations of sharing life with a partner.I miss Phil’s smile. I miss the fact…
My Big Fish
I had seen this movie before Michael’s passing. After everything happened I had a yearning to see this film again, and it was afterward that I knew why. There are so many scenes that I can relate so closely with. The scene below is one that reminds me of sitting in the car after the service. We sat in it right afterward to listen to the bagpipe…
Dancing Lessions
I have always felt like a flunky on the dance floor. At my college roommate’s wedding an elderly man (he was probably the age I am now) asked me to dance. I politely said that I did not know how to dance but he insisted that it was simple and all that I needed was to follow his lead. Ignoring my protests, he grabbed me, leaving me little choice.