In what has become a tradition of ours, this Tuesday my kids and I placed roses in the sand. We tend to commemorate milestones related to my wife and especially the anniversary of her death by going to her favorite place, the beach. Inevitably whatever flowers we have wind up being planted ever so gently in the sand. Some years we’ll add a short…
Miscellaneous
Wild Crazy Lonely Shame
I’m lonely. For several weeks I have been breathing in loneliness and exhaling it too. It soaks me in its wet, heavy haziness. Every time I look anywhere, there is a couple, together, sharing a joke, a small gentle familiar kiss, a rest of a familiar hand on the small of a back, the lack of space between themand all I can do was sigh. When will…
time after time
I keep returning here to write something. To let you all know that things are okay and that life goes on and we are happy. They are, it does and often we are. But I am feeling the weight lately of a realization. One I should have had two years and eight months ago. This is FOREVER.Not solely being without Jeff. But taking the garbage out by myself.
Wild Crazy
L, my 13 yr old is taking French. The Spanish classes met at the same time as the Jazz Ensemble and Chamber Orchestra. He plays the cello. And he says “Mom, what would really help me is if we went to France.”And I say, “Ok, wanna go this summer?” This is not a bluff. I have spent the past three weeks deciding where we will live (Chamonix…
the anger
**My apologies for the raw and rude wording of this post. It’s been written in the heat of the moment but I feel it would lessen its ‘feel’ if I softened the wording. I hope no one is offended** There are times I hate him for dying. Two and a half years later and I could spit fury at his lack of care for his health, for his concern for our…
He Smiled
The other night I had a dream with Michael in it. A festival of some sort was taking place and I stood some distance away…eyes glued to my love. Something passed by, that before Michael could even look at it, I knew would be something he’d find amusing. I knew it would happen. One of the things that melted my heart and still brings butterflies to…
“Oh, What Shall I Do?”
Chris and I had season tickets to the opera. He was passionate about the art form and I enjoyed it enough to go with him. I continued our subscription after he died and have started a new tradition of bringing a friend or family member with me to each performance.One of the operas I saw last fall was Faust, which is about a man who sells his soul…
TMI?
What do I tell the kids when they get older? Specifically, what do I tell Molly, the child Lisa carried in her womb while fighting cancer?Do I tell her that her mom’s cancer spread when she was pregnant? Even though the doctors said the cancer was estrogen negative and that didn’t affect the pregnancy. Do I still tell her? Do I tell her a…
Dreaming of Art
I dreamt about him. I was coming out of Pallas and Ezra’s room and he was standing in the hall. “Hi!” I said, thrilled, as if he had come home early from work. And we stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. “Can I touch you?” I asked, for the last time I dreamed about him I had tried to hug him, only to touch cold air before he could tell…
Shhhhhh!!!
Shhh! Do NOT talk about them. Do not bring them up in conversation! Pretend they don’t exist. Proper widows talk about proper topics. These two topics are socially don’t-ask-just-assume-the-best topics. Only the bold among my friends will broach the subjects.SEX and MONEY Sex with a man I like is delicious, scrumptious, enticing, drug like,…
Separate Worlds
A friend of mine told me that his 99 year old Grandfather had just died, and that his wife who is also 99 years old is still living. She wondered how long the wife was going to live now that the husband is gone. “I’m sure it’s not the same for you, but you hear all the time with the elderly how quickly other one dies after the death of their…
Dreaming ….
…. would be a much better thing if we could control it, wouldn’t it? ….. or would it? I’d love going to sleep each night if I knew that I could dream of Jim. I would choose to dream about him as much as possible.Good dreams. Dreams in which he’d be alive. Dreams in which our lives had never been altered …. or rather, ripped to shreds. But…