In preparation for my son’s first day of Kindergarten today, I attended an interview with his teacher yesterday. It mostly entailed questions of, “Can he tie his shoes?”, “Does he feel shy in new situations?” and “Can he wipe his own bottom?” At the end of our little meeting, his teacher asked about his special interests. I listed off his favourite…
melancholy bed linens
Written three years ago. 17 days after Jeff died… I have been sitting in the rocking chair in my room for a period of time each day staring at our bed and crying. I am trying to muster up the courage to wash the sheets. I tell myself, “Jeff would laugh at this. He’d think I was being silly and sentimental. They are just sheets. They aren’t him.”…
to me….three year ago me.
I will never be able to deliver this letter to myself three years ago in the past. But I can post it here and hope that it will offer some comfort and solace to some of the widows/widowers who come after me ….Dear Me (and You), I know you feel that you died in the moment that you lost Jeff and that you will never have the desire to live again.
why not?
Written five months “post Jeff”…. My sister, Kirsten, was lending an ear the other day when I was having a hard time. I was upset about the whole lack of hope and happiness thing. I didn’t know why I should try anymore…with anything. He’s gone. Nothing matters anymore. So I said to her, “Why? Why bother?” She said, “I guess it comes down to…
touch me
I can handle being alone. Being “single” is just fine and I often think that this is how I would prefer to live. Loading the dishwasher in the way I deem to be correct is truly satisfying. Dancing spastically in the kitchen while the kids sleep and not concerning myself with looking coordinated or even sexy is fabulous. But not having any…
return of the numbness
Written four months after Jeff’s death…. I don’t know if it’s normal to have the vague fuzzy feeling like thinking through a pillow re-emerge four months after a death happens. But it has. I feel as if I’m trying to catch glimpses of things as I spin in circles. I can see that things are there but the edges blur and smudge together. I’m late…
The same??? a cranky rant
First posted on my personal blog on June 25th, 2008 (Three months after Jeff died) while still in the throes of “death anger”… The kids and I went to a small toy store to find a little toy for Liv and Briar on our way to the wedding on Sunday. The saleswoman was one of those types that drive you insane while shopping by following you around and…
are you ready for this?
One of the questions I’ve asked myself frequently since Jeff’s death is “Am I ready and do I want to date?” Aside from the need for physical contact, I can’t say that in the first year I was at all ready for “dating”. Last year, my second year of widowhood, I thought I was. With trepidation and large amount of humility, I took a look at online…
if wishes came true
Written one month after Jeff died in 2008… I overheard Olivia wishing on a fallen eyelash yesterday, “I wish my Daddy would come back.” I tried to get her to ‘tell’ me the wish so I could talk about it with her…the fact that he is never coming back. But she insisted that if she told me, then her wish wouldn’t come true.I so wish he would come…
Let it strengthen you
I have read a variety of quotes with a similar message. I think anyone who has dealt with trauma, loss or tragedy has come face-to-face with this choice. I also think that, at times, we have all chosen each one of the three options. I just hope that as we all get further from the moment that provoked this epiphany, we manage to choose to let this…
i need more dreams
Written 6 months after Jeff’s death… A few weeks ago, I had a dream that I was standing on a bridge looking toward the sea where a fishing boat was coming. I started calling out to it. I was calling Jeff’s name. As it came closer, I could see Jeff standing on the bow waving to me. He jumped off the boat as it was about to go under the bridge and…
a choice
I spend a lot of time loathing what has “become” of my life. Ruminating over the “before” and “after”. Taking stock of the injustice of losing my beloved so early in my life. Wishing life now was different.But when I imagine having a life that was so dramatically different and without the pain of Jeff’s death and all the repercussions from his…