Today as I type this it is my fourth Birthday as a widow. Since Mike died I have never celebrated my birthday and felt authentically happy. I have always deeply felt his absence and my birthday has been difficult at best. Really, birthdays have never been a big deal to me – even when Mike was alive. And, I have to admit, he only lived to…
Wonderful Life
I often think about life with Mike. I want the life and love he shared with me back. A part of me will always want to slip back into that wonderful life with him. I know that this is not possible, but I do not know how to stop myself from wishing for my old life to return to me. I know that none of these desires are realistic. And, I…
Coffee Talk
I stand staring into the cupboard. My eyes see all the familiar coffee mugs lined up. Though they are inanimate objects, the mugs seem to be shamelessly shouting “pick me” from their distinguished spots on the shelf. *Sigh. Which one should I select. Which mug do I want to use? This decision should not be this hard. Except…
Another Year Without You
Soon I will have been your Widow for three years. Should I be good at widowing now? Should this feel “normal” to me now? Who knows. No one gave me a manual when you died. So, I am going by feel. I fumble forward on instinct. I hate your death date. November 15th, 2016 – you took your last breath and I fought to catch…
Shattered Hearts Still Beat
Before I was Mike’s widow I did not know the depth and breadth of grief. I had no idea that grief lasts forever. I never considered secondary losses. I did not think about how the dead are missing from our futures. The day Mike died, I did not know that my grief would stay with me throughout my lifetime. I just didn’t know. …
Live Forward
In less than one month it will be three years since Mike died. With time and a lot of processing, the truth of his death has slowly leached into every cell of my body. And, despite my initial rebellion against his death, my heart is finally no longer resisting what my mind understands. Mike is gone. He died. Even now, it is unthinkable…
My Aliveness
It is not just his deadness, it’s my aliveness that weighs heavy on my Soul. In a month and one day, it will be exactly three years since Mike died. And, this year, it is not only his deadness that is gutting me, it is more… Mike is dead. That sentence is awful to read. Beyond awful really. And, it is terrible to type. But, I…
Adrift
When you become a widow everything familiar is suddenly lost. The rituals and routines of your old life no longer mark the way. As a widowed person you are forced to sail into uncharted waters. It is incredibly daunting. But, with time, you get used to it. And, you can even begin to flourish in the open water. I am different because he died. I am…
Meaningless
This November it will be three years that I have been Mike’s widow. Three years is a decent amount of time to have spent in the quagmire that is grief. I have a fairly significant amount of experience as a widow, but I still feel inadequate in my new life. No matter what I do, nothing fills my Soul. Everything is lacklustre and…
Fan Girl of Love
Dating is not something that I decided to take on lightly. This November, Mike will have been dead for three years. Not that this really matters in terms of dating. Or does it? It doesn’t. But, the fact that I mentioned it means that to me it is significant in some way. I wish I could explain this more sufficiently, but I can’t. I…
Wreckage
Part of me died with him. And, surprisingly, a big part of me survived his death. This part of me is fighting to live forward. Since early on, I have chosen to focus on the living part of me. The part of me that was not buried with Mike. Sure, absolutely, I miss the person I used to be, but the life in which that woman existed died with…
Your Touch
Dear Mike, I miss your touch desperately. When you were alive my skin knew your touch by heart. I knew how you felt. I knew that the stubble on your cheeks wasn’t that rough; Your shoulders were wide and your chest was solid. Your hands were thick and strong. I remember that your nails were always kept cut short because you thought it…