Three years is not an insignificant amount of time to be in a relationship with someone. Three years is how long Megan and I dated before we were married. Three years is how long Megan was “healthy” during our relationship. Three years is how old Shelby was when her mother was carted away in an ambulance, on her way to an unknown…
Miscellaneous
Finance Department
Through our twenties, Megan and I (well, mostly me) got into a mountain of debt. Cars, trips, entertainment, and just plain “things” were being spent upon all the time. There were quite a few medical costs sprinkled in there too. By the time we hit 30 years old, we were at our wit’s end with bills. Megan’s disability prevented her…
The Dance
When Grief comes, Take her in your arms and dance with her. Don’t resist. Fall into her. Move and sway in time with her. Hold her carefully. Then, when the music is over, Look her in the eyes and thank her for the dance. Source: pinterest Maybe the words are too kitschy. Maybe this image of Grief is overly sentimental and…
Call Me if You Need ANYTHING
Up until about age 30 or so, I was a fairly social creature. I made friends easily, whether it be through work, spending weekends in the woods with groups, or wrenching on cars. Through my twenties, not only did Megan and I make “couples” friends, but I had my own as well. Friends that Megan appreciated herself, but really, they were…
Clearing the Debris
While we were down in my hometown last week for a wedding, we managed to get out for a few hours one morning to make the drive out to Rockport. If you’ll recall, this little coastal town got the brunt of hurricane Harvey last year. I will never forget sitting in bed at 2am, watching the TV in horror from 1400 miles away as one of my favorite…
Dormant Memories
If you’ve read Sarah’s Post this past Sunday, then you are aware that she and I (and Shelby) were in Corpus Christi, Texas, over an extended weekend. One of her longest and closest friends was marrying, and Sarah herself was a bridesmaid. In that regards, I wasn’t a widower this past weekend. I was the “second partner” of a widow.
Big Love
My smile has been gone for a long time. I wore it effortlessly when Mike was alive. But, now, my smile feels like an accessory I wear only on special occasions. I know that it won’t be like this forever because I love life too much to never smile again. But, for right now, my heart feels empty, And, I see a deficiency of joy in my eyes.
Loss of a Different Kind
In my 37 years, I’ve seen my share of loss. I’ve lost all of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, fellow Marines, a brother-in-law, cats, dogs and other pets, co-workers, and obviously, my wife. There has been illness, accidents, age, war, heart-attacks, and a sprinkle of stupidity involved. It happens. Death happens. I…
Off Kilter
My memories of Mike echo off the walls of the house, yet the silence in my home is deafening. Everything is quiet now. Death makes your whole world go silent. I think this is by design. We need this noiseless environment and solitude to contemplate how we will re-create ourselves. As we do the work of re-defining our identity we need to…
I’m Building my Wings on the Way Down
Ringing in the new year without you is something I never want to do. This year, or ever. No matter how much time passes, no matter how my life changes; and no matter where I am standing on New Year’s Eve, I know that I will always pause and think of you. I will always want you to still be alive, here with me. And, always, I will want to…
I can feel your arms around my Life…
Today it is thirteen months and 3 days since you died. Some moments, your death still does not feel real to me. And, other times, the realness of your death is so apparent I feel nauseated. This is grief in all it’s unapologetic glory. In the early days when you died I couldn’t even breathe. I’d gasp for breathe and I’d rock back and forth,…
To Know Grief is to Know Love
I can’t tell you how I manage to pull off a post every week, or how I have done so for the past three and a half years here. I get asked that a lot. Some weeks I know exactly what I want to write. Other weeks I feel dry…uninspired, lackluster and done. Then suddenly something will move me. Feeling overcome with emotion in a moment, a vision of…