I spent Mother’s Day with our youngest son and his wife and 2 year old son. They were loving and lovely and welcoming and it was a totally enjoyable time. Even as it was heart ripping and filled with emotion because, you know…dead husband.I’m in year 6 of this widowed life. You’d think I would have calmed the fuck down by now, right? In the…
Beginning my New Year~
My new year begins each April 21. That’s the date of Chuck’s death. It’s the only new year that carries any meaning for me. What do I care about January 1? April 21 is the day my life incinerated and I was eviscerated. So it stands to reason, at least in my mind, that this is the day where I look back, and, insofar as I’m able, look ahead.I knew,…
Questions. For Myself. For Others~
What does one do, 6 years after being widowed? Where do we stand? What does life mean in the here and now? Does the future finally carry meaning for us? Or is life simply one filled with questions? About ourselves, our lives, the life we lived, the life we have to live in the without…I always feel a vague sense of unease when I tell someone newly…
6 Years of Tired~
This isn’t going to be an upbeat blog. No apologies for that, but fair warning. I don’t have it in me today.Yesterday was 6 years since Chuck died. I wonder why I can’t seem to get wherever it is I’m supposed to get. In this widowed life, I mean. It’s felt, since I was first widowed, like I’ve had to continually strive to be somewhere in the…
6 Years. 6 Centuries~
This Sunday it will be 6 years since Chuck died. Just writing that number leaves me breathless, and not in a good way. Jesus. How can it be 6 years? Though it might as well be 6 centuries. That’s how it feels. So, my thoughts on this fractured time as they meander through my mind…I spent last weekend with our older son and his family, which…
Numbers and Changing Lives~
Chuck and I sold our home in NJ in May 2009 to go out on the road and travel our country together. No more rat race for us. Just time together. We had just shy of 4 years on the road together. He died April 21, 2013. 11:21 pm is when he took his last breath. In so many ways, I did too. Take my last breath, I mean. My breathing hasn’t been the…
Time and Wishing~
I’m coming up on 6 years since Chuck died. April 21. It’s weird how my brain works with time regarding his death. For the first 5 years I counted in days and weeks and months. In the last few weeks, I’ve found myself saying almost 6 years. Once April 21 comes…which is my New Year, by the way, instead of January 1, I know I’ll say it’s been over 6…
It’s a Real Thing. Camp Crash~
Holy shit, is it a real thing. Camp Crash. Michele, thankfully, speaks about it each year, prior to Sunday morning breakfast. Fair warning of gales ahead, campers. Brace yourselves.I first attended Camp Widow in 2015. Chuck had been dead for 2 years at that point. I didn’t know a soul there. I hadn’t connected with any widowed groups on fb. I was…
Me and the Universe~
I met Christina Rasmussen, from Second Firsts, early in my widowhood, on her first book tour. She was in Boston and I was in NH, so I drove to the book store holding the event, and heard her speak for the first time. It didn’t change the emotions of my widowhood, but her words, her philosophy about life after loss touched me deeply. It was my…
Widowing and Renaisance Faires
My motto, since Chuck died, is push your boundaries. Stretch your comfort zones. Go where you’ve never gone before. It hasn’t been difficult to do this, honestly. Chuck died in southern CA, in our 4th year on the road. I had no home to return to; we’d sold it, and our belongings, years before, to go adventuring. So I was already well accustomed to…
Grief. Secondarily~
The easy affection between us. The teasing. The flirtatious wink across the room from him to me. The sensation of electricity skimming across my skin when he entered a room where I was, even before I saw him.The passion. Holding hands. The sweet kisses that lasted for at least 30 seconds because I’d read a book about relationships early on in our…
Whispers of Memory~
Whispers of memory In the halls of Time Drift through me Like the clouds of mist That suddenly appeared around us as we wandered the soft ground of Muir Woods so many years ago. Memories that begin, now, with our final times together. Me, huddled in the courtyard gardens of hospice rocking to and fro on my knees, arms hugging my…