It has been a long time since I have really shared my life with a man. Four years, ten months, and seven days to be exact. In that time I have learned to juggle life as a single parent, a single person, a sole provider, the sole tenant on my mortgage…I have become accustomed to the fact that the buck stops with me. For the last two weeks I have…
The Meaning of Sacrifice
There was a time that I could not imagine being a widow. There was a time when I didn’t know that widowed people come in all shapes and sizes. There was a time that I knew the dictionary definition of the word sacrifice, but I had no idea how that word fit into the widowhood experience.Since I began leading an organization that creates a network of…
Tethered
Seven years ago Phil and I decided to climb Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the contiguous United States. We recruited some other crazy hikers; we worked out a year long training schedule (he chose the trails and I planned the distances and elevation order); we went on several exploratory hikes in search of good training climbs; we ate, drank,…
Still Hurts
One of the very few tasks I completed myself in preparing for Phil’s funeral was personalizing the “guest book.” I clearly remember someone asking me what kind of book I would like to provide for the people who attended the funeral to sign. Suddenly visions of a wedding guest book popped up in my mind and I began to cry as I realized the huge…
Toasting Alone
Tonight I toasted my youngest son’s confirmation with me, myself, and I. The ceremony was really beautiful, we enjoyed a lively lunch with our family to celebrate, and at the end of the day I felt peaceful and content. So, I popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, and toasted to a joy filled day. As I poured my solo glass of bubbly, I laughed…
The View Approaching Five
Every once in awhile I am shocked by the fact that Phil has been dead almost five years. This week I met several new people, and shared a bit of my widow story with each of them. Every time I told someone how long it has been since Phil died a little voice in my head asked, has it really been that long? Believing that 56 months have passed since…
A Grief Timeline?
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…
Me and Betsey
I don’t do lawns. There are many jobs I have tackled to prove that I am a strong, capable woman, but lawn mowing has never been one of them. Growing up my brothers mowed the lawn, after I married my husband mowed the lawn, and after he died the lawn took on a life of its own. Because who the heck was going to mow it now??This was a very serious…
What Has Endured
Before my husband Phil died I could have easily created a long list of my personal beliefs. This list would have included ideas about both the tangible and the intangible; broad concepts and specific ideals; God and mortal beings. There would probably even have been a mention of death and eternity…but only in the abstract because my beliefs about…
Owning My Path
“As a widow you will learn that the only choice that ultimately brings peace is walking the path of grief that has your name on it. The only way to walk with grief is to meet it head on and know that those who have walked before you have survived.” ~Linda Perrone RooneyI found this quote over the weekend, and instantly wanted to share it with all…
What I Can Do
From the minute I was told that Phil was dead I have been tortured by things I could not do. Initially, the fact that no amount of hoping, denying, praying, or screaming was going to bring him back to life haunted my days. I was obsessed with the idea that the world would be whole again only when someone with a magic wand brought me back my…
Flashbacks
Phil died a violent death. Though my brain acknowledges this fact, I have tried to shield my heart from the reality of his final moments. I am not a person who ever felt compelled to explore the details of the exact location of his body on the pavement, or the number of seconds it took the driver to pull over after the accident. My imagination…