…. is exactly how I felt this past weekend. (Yes, this is another post about Camp Widow …. but I don’t think we can help it.) 🙂 I felt wonderfully safe and secure there. Among people that I already knew …. and among people that I had just met (which means that I have more Facebook friends!!). There are no strangers among widowed people.Only…
Love After Love …
… is different. Very, very different. Â I wish I had known that. I wish I had known a widow who could have told me that. Someone who could have warned me. Â You see, I had only loved one person in my whole life (OK, other than my family members and friends). I had only fallen in love once. And he had only fallen in love once. We both had that…
I Am Pissed ….
I am pissed . . . . ….. please forgive my crassness. Since Jim died I haven’t had anyone around to give me a disapproving glance for unladylike language so ……. it’s been much more difficult to be ladylike. I think it goes with the experience. Deep breath here. This will be one of those honestly honest posts. I’m not sure who should take the…
Honest to a Fault ….
…. is what I can sometimes be …. I think. Some people do not enjoy my honesty on my personal blog. I’ve learned to hold back on some things ….. things that will have an effect on those I love. Although sometimes holding back puts me in a very, very lonely place.I wish that I could just pour out every single feeling that comes my way when…
A Slow Fade ….
… is not what happens the day your soul mate dies. There’s nothing slow about the slamming shut of the door of your life. Your life as you knew it. Your “before” life. Your future as you dreamed it. Â The door slams shut. All light is snuffed out. Literally. You are thrust into a very, very dark, very cold place.No …. not slow at all. Â But…
Feeling Guilty ….
… for falling in love again? Ummmm …… not so much. Â I’ve heard and read a lot about this topic lately. I’ve seen what others have written about it. And I’ve seen quite a bit of guilt. Â Why? Why do we do that to ourselves?I use the word “we”, even though guilt is not an emotion that I am, or have, felt since I started dating again (after…
I Dreamed a Dream ….
I am happy. Finally, after what seems an eternity, I can say …. and mean …. those three words. After over 2 years of thinking that I would never be happy again. After over 2 years of wishing that I were there with him. After over 2 years of feeling that I was going to drown. I. Am. Happy. Â And yet ……….. there are still moments when a…
Moving Forward
…. is different from moving on. Moving on implies forgetting what is past. Moving forward is more difficult. It involves carrying the past with you while you walk forward one step at a time. Never forgetting, but continuing to breathe and live. Some days I can accomplish this. Some days I can’t. Some days the past feels too heavy to carry with…
Moving Forward … Not Moving On
…. is different from moving on. Moving on implies forgetting what is past. Moving forward is more difficult. It involves carrying the past with you while you walk forward one step at a time. Never forgetting, but continuing to breathe and live. Some days I can accomplish this. Some days I can’t. Some days the past feels too heavy to carry with…
Seasons of Solace ….
….. is a wonderful book. It’s a book about grief, but it’s different. It one widow’s story told through her poems and her photography. It’s beautiful.I’m not usually a person who enjoys sitting down and reading a bunch of poems. I’m not that deep …………. shocking, I know (and shame on all of you who did a spit-take on that!). I prefer to…
You Get What You Get ….
I’ve come to realize something over the past several years. It’s about a variation of a sentence I’ve heard over and over again. And I would bet that most of you have heard it in the not-so-distant past. I have come to hate ….. no, abhor, this sentence ….. “I could never do that.” Or better yet, “God knew that I couldn’t handle something like…
It Should Have Been ……
…. our 27th anniversary. Friday. The 28th. It should have been. Â Instead, it was the day our oldest child/daughter graduated from graduate school. And I was with her. Just me. Â It should have been us. But it wasn’t. It was just me. Again.I get tired of it being just me. For everything. Every big day. Every “first day of ….” Every “last day…