My husband, Phil, used to call Valentine’s Day ‘So What Day’…romantic, huh? He thought greeting cards were a waste of trees; that buying flowers because someone told you to defeated the purpose; and that going to dinner on the big day just to eat from a limited menu and have servers anxiously awaiting your departure from the table was…

Every once in awhile I am able to see myself through another person’s eyes; sort of like looking up and seeing an image in a mirror, and then realizing the face that is reflected there is your own. The observations from these unguarded moments usually provide some serious food for thought. Recently I went to see the movie Brothers. I will leave out…

On Thursday I received a phone call from a woman who wanted advice on how best to support her friend whose husband died two months ago. She was at her wits end with her friend who called her crying hysterically because she’d just left a drive through restaurant that she and her husband used to frequent together. This friend said to me, “I just…

I’ve been asked what I think of the word widow, and specifically if I’d prefer we use a different word that has a more positive connotation to label the widowed experience. When the word widow first applied to me, I told myself that I hated that word. I shuddered every time I used that word to describe myself, and the unwanted situation in which I…

On my first widowed Thanksgiving Phil’s empty seat at the dinner table represented only my personal loss. Knowing he would never again sit bside me as we spoke aloud the things for which were grateful, around our Thanksgiving table, made the empty space beside me pulsate in my mind’s eye. My heart radiated pain, and sitting through the meal…

After Phil’s death I feared getting better. I didn’t want to get over it, move on, allow time to heal me, or be grateful that Phil was in a better place. Frankly, getting better sounded like forgetting, getting over it was impossible, moving on implied leaving a time when Phil was a part of my world, time as a concept wasn’t doing much for me, and…

When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou   When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety.   When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear.When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We…

The day Phil died I had no idea what kind of roller coaster ride I was about to board. In many ways I felt I was shuffled onto the first outgoing cart marked “grief,” and told to put my lap belt on low and tight. Maybe I would have managed the twists and turns of the journey better if someone handed me a grief timeline that mapped out the course…