I’ve long had a fascination of things from the past…things with a history. I can rummage for hours through an antique story, thinking of the stories that lay behind each piece, and the lives that created them. I love to feel old pieces of furniture or read old postcards and then in my mind weaving a tale for those who sat on it’s cushions or…
Military Widowed
A Thin Thread
I’ve always felt like I related to this art piece made by my sister-in-law. It reminds me of pain. Of strength. Of holding on. Of hope. Do you ever feel like you’re hanging on by the thinnest thread? I had been running on empty for a while now… feeling dry and indifferent… Feeling like I had given everything that I had to give, leaving nothing…
Unite
This past week Nicole (WSM) and I were both able to speak to military widows from the Vietnam era. Now we did it in different ways (mine was on the phone and hers was at the podium), but both brought us to the realization that we were overlapping two generations with one common thing, sharing our stories of love, grief and survival.The woman I…
The Ocean
I cannot think of any better example of this new chapter of mine than that of an ocean. Waves are a constant but there are days when all is calm, and then there are the days where they crash on the sand with all their power and might. So goes the same with my grief.There are moments of serene beauty. The sun rises and the sun sets and all is well,…
Happy 4th of July!
Today marks another holiday that truly puts into perspective just all that our husbands fought, loved and died for. I will not lie….Veteran’s Day, Memorial Day and 4th of July used to be holidays that seemed to melt together. Besides separate months, fireworks and parades, I truly never felt to full capacity what each really stood for and meant…
Thus begun our Dance
It was a clear, sunny morning on July 2nd, 2005, not an ugly cloud in the sky. I got ready in a room with the women most pronounced in my life at that time. I was escorted by the 8 beautiful women of my bridal party through the hotel and across the country club in California. I stopped briefly at the white fence behind the gorgeous gazebo before…
The Joy
John Clarke once said, “True love is the joy of life.” Now I don’t know John but after this past week I have to add on to these words of inspiration he probably spoke many years ago. Now as I personally know, true love is hands down numero uno in my joy book but the second greatest joy is being around others who have been touched by its graces.
Celebrating the Journey at Hole 8
This week is a big week for the widows in my life- the military widows of The American Widow Project. Wednesday, we had our first annual charity golf tournament for the organization. Each golf hole was dedicated to the soul mate of an AWP member. I spent the entire day on a golf course in North Carolina with about 120 supporters and 15 military…
In the Park
What is a park to you? A place to walk your dogs, read a book among nature, or just listen to the chirping birds? For me, I’ll be honest with you all….Starting at the age of 16 the park became a place where Michael and I could get away from our parents, sit on a picnic table and have lunch , and do what teenagers do (I’ll let your imagination go…
Next Box.
I’ve moved twice since David passed. Both moves necessary, emotional, and exhausting. I moved into this house 3 months ago. I had unopened boxes from both moves and at some point I just stopped unpacking. Those that remained were shoved into the guest bedroom with the door shut. From time to time I would consider opening the door and organizing the…
How Many Tickets?
I never went to the movies solo. For as long as I can remember I had someone to my left or right to share my popcorn and Sour Patch Kids with. Michael, on the other hand, loved catching the latest flick on his own. It was as if he had some freedom I hadn’t quite mastered.I remember the first time I ventured out to explore this alien land. As I…
A Journal Entry
I’ve been glancing at David’s journal for the past week. It sits on a special bookshelf in our living room. I used to read it every night before my pathetic attempt at sleep but it’s been a while since I’ve opened the pages. This small, brown, soft leather journal is eminently special to me. His hands have touched every page of the tattered book,…