We all know the power of words, especially in widowhood. Words stream at us in loving support, with awkwardness, clumsy grace, and, unfortunately, in judgement. We hear these words and phrases and they make us stronger or they make us want to hide. We begin, as time passes, to hide ourselves. To isolate ourselves. We present artificial selves to…
Let
Let the moments stop. Let them stay where they are. Let them take me back in time. Let them morph into the unknown future. Let me be present. Let me disappear. Let me be numb. Let my emotions riot my heart. Let shock quiet my system.Let me remember times past. Let me see only the joy. Let the pain recede. Let him see Love. Let our grief morph into…
The Numbers~
Almost 5 years.5 years without you.Don’t ask me how I’ve gone 5 years without you.I don’t know.Sheer grit and determination.And a whole lot of the Love that you left behind for me.It isn’t enough, you know.Having to live on memories of your Love for me.Mine for you.But it has to be. Enough, I mean.24 years with you wasn’t enough.We…
If What is Left, is This…then, yes~
As 5 years without you, edges its’ way ever nearer to me, and as my heart and soul hear the shuffle of time coming closer, creeping past, zooming closer, flying past.. As these ten thousand years have passed, since his death, as each nanosecond passes in the here and now, I remember how he loved me, how I loved him. I remember his calm spirit and…
This Still Beating Heart~
An interesting question was posted in a widow group earlier today. When was the moment you realized you would survive this?Your person’s death…this new life…I never doubted for a moment that I could and would survive this. From the time Chuck was told that the cancer was everywhere.My fear was that I would indeed and unfortunately survive…
The Many Dances~
I used to dance with my beloved husband… We danced dreamily, to Clint Black, to Chicago, to Elvis, to whatever tune happened to be playing wherever we were. Oh, how we danced…his right arm around me, my hand clasped in his. At the end of the dance, he’d always dip me back in his arms, and then kiss my hand.I dance still, these 4 years and 10…
I Must Write of This, Because~
I must write about Love, because I will go fucking insane if I write of the painful past, I will go fucking insane from..I don’t know…rage? World stopping anxiety? Despair? It goes by many names, this feeling that is the experience I shared with Chuck in his hospice time. In the cancer time. In his death and dying time. How I torture myself by…
The Power of This 4 Letter Word~
I believe in Love.I believe that Love enriches and empowers and creates and morphs mere humans into magnificent beings.I believe that life dares us and bids us, at our best and our worst, to open our hearts to Love.I believe that life challenges us, through strife and perplexity and awkwardness, to continue loving in the face of all that it throws…
No Questions. No Answers~
What I have come to understand about grief and widowhood and the struggles that come with it. Not much. Except that it has the power to eat you up and spit you out, sweating and breathing hard on the other side. When you get to the other side, and it’s anybody’s guess as to when that might happen. There is no timeline for any of this, as I’ve…
This One isn’t for You, if You’re Offended by the F Word~
Fucking widowhoodFucking life without himFucking heavinessFucking memories of you dyingFucking bed sores Fucking hole in the base of your spine where the tumor ate through your bodyFucking having to live without you every damn dayFucking having to wake up and do life in the midst of fucking confusion that is just always there no matter whatFucking…
Time Unmeasureable~
My dearest, my most beloved husband, Chuck. Sarge. D. My heart, my heartbeat, the oxygen in my blood, my very breath… You were many names to me over the years. You were many things to me, as I was to you. You were everything to me, as I was to you. Life was daily living for us both, of course. We had our jobs, our individual friends and…
Words We Say
I read recently that someone I know through someone else, got back her biopsy results. The tests came back positive. Side note: isn’t it funny that we call tests positive when they tell us we have cancer? Shouldn’t it be exactly the opposite? Negative! Your tests are negative! You have cancer! Especially since our culture is so gung ho on…