There are lots of things we put in closets. There are things you expect to find inside like sweaters, dresses, and shoes. Then there are the other things that you can’t find a place for like old yearbooks, memory boxes, or last year’s tax returns. Perhaps there are mothballs, spiderwebs, or the odd price tag from a purchased item….all of this you…
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What Kind of Man?
What kind of man is capable of loving a widow? Would he always wonder if he measured up to the dead man whose image has a prominent place in my bedroom? How would he handle the mention of said dead husband in everyday conversation? At some point would he tire of having to be patient while a grief wave rolled, unannounced, over his girl? What would…
Road Trip
I recently ventured out on an 18 hour solo road trip. I have been on road trips and driven long hours but never to this length and by myself, so there were apprehensions. 18 hours of a task in which you have no other company but oneself can be a scary thing. Thoughts, memories, what-ifs all take full reign and can be exhausting and draining.I hit…
Still human…
I arrived back home (Cape Cod) from my vacation and the Conference on Widowhood late last night and went straight to bed, more tired than tired. This morning I got up and took a look around. The grass needed to be mowed, the garden needed to be weeded, and the house had a layer of fine dust that I couldn’t see but I knew was there. My desk was…
110 Carriage Place
There’s something daunting about entering the place where your life last thrived. I know for a while now that I had to make a trip to Clarksville, TN, where David and I were stationed, but I chose not to dwell on the idea. To be honest, we’d be happy in a cardboard box so long as both of us fit in it, but Clarksville was never our favorite place to…
Life goes rushing by ….
…. way too quickly sometimes. Or is it just mine? I doubt that ….. look who I’m writing to. We ALL know that life went rushing by too fast. But my life as been so hectic in the last day or so, that not only did I not write on my own blog yesterday, I forgot to write my post for this blog!!! So, here it is.Another wave this week …. but one I’m…
Put on a Happy Face…
Here’s my happy face. This smile isn’t fake, it was very sincere at that moment – I’m sure the free margaritas were enough to buy some sincerity, but I could be wrong. ;-)In the first months after Daniel died I didn’t feel like I put on a happy face. I didn’t feel capable of it. I’ve heard from others that I did and I seemed to be “okay”. Three and…
Remembering When
The word remember has taken on a new meaning since Phil died. Looking back is both painful and comforting. Sometimes recalling a specific event that I shared with Phil causes a jarring pain in my chest. These memories are often visceral…the atmosphere of a specific restaurant; the inflection of Phil’s brother’s voice; or the smell of a hotel…
The Freedom To Be
Overheard in the hotel check-in line at the San Diego Marriott…”Did you hear that there is a WIDOWS conference here in the hotel this weekend?” The unspoken next line was most likely, who would want to go to a widows conference? Ugh. And don’t we look miserable? ;)Convincing people that this weekend would not be a downer was one of the most…
Next Stop Letterman…
OK, maybe I am exaggerating just a tad… But last weekend, the National Conference on Widowhood gave me the opportunity to step WAAAY outside of my comfort zone. Like, Way. This shy, insecure, risk-averse widow stood in front of a whole bunch of women and revealed herself. I wanted to give these fabulous, courageous and generous widows a few…
Old Things
I’ve long had a fascination of things from the past…things with a history. I can rummage for hours through an antique story, thinking of the stories that lay behind each piece, and the lives that created them. I love to feel old pieces of furniture or read old postcards and then in my mind weaving a tale for those who sat on it’s cushions or…
A Thin Thread
I’ve always felt like I related to this art piece made by my sister-in-law. It reminds me of pain. Of strength. Of holding on. Of hope. Do you ever feel like you’re hanging on by the thinnest thread? I had been running on empty for a while now… feeling dry and indifferent… Feeling like I had given everything that I had to give, leaving nothing…