There is so much going on in my head right now. Its hard to think straight. I forgot to write in here last week. Im a bad, bad widow. Im so sorry. I forgot to write because I was away in Maine, with my new love, celebrating our 8 month anniversary, and Valentines Day. It was my first really good Valentines Day since Don died, 6 years ago.
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I Must Write of This, Because~
I must write about Love, because I will go fucking insane if I write of the painful past, I will go fucking insane from..I don’t know…rage? World stopping anxiety? Despair? It goes by many names, this feeling that is the experience I shared with Chuck in his hospice time. In the cancer time. In his death and dying time. How I torture myself by…
Indifference
Do things ever really work out? This Valentine’s Day put me at pause with that thought as I lay dying, staring at the neutral-colored walls of my bedroom while listening to the sounds of silence in an ever-enclosing prison of flu-ridden paralysis. Time stood still. When it does so, my mind agonizes and over-analyzes. The past. The…
Still Searching for Me
I don’t think I ever anticipated how difficult one aspect of dating a widower with kids would be for me… my own self-imposed comparisons. I don’t think I was equipped to handle this, and honestly I’m probably still not doing the best job of managing, though I am trying. It was and continues to be tough that I moved into someone else’s…
Coming Along for the Ride
Don Shepherd likes to send me great, big, obvious signs. I never question that it’s him. I just know. One of the signs he sends over and over, is the big yellow Penske moving truck. On Superbowl Sunday, 2005, Don pulled up in a big yellow Penske truck, with his car attached and his cat in his lap, after driving 24 hours to New Jersey from Florida…
A Hard Battle
Life is a merry-go-round.I’m just riding it until I fall down. I’ve learned that widowed status does not create saints or good people. Good people aren’t created from loss. They can be, but the choice is always available every second of every day. It’s not loss that makes us good or bad people. It’s our choices. We can use that…
Not Lucky, Not Blessed
Id like to write today about the concept of being or feeling “blessed” or “lucky”, what these terms mean to me personally, and how people’s views about faith directly affect their grief thoughts. I know and I respect that each of us has varying and different views on faith, God, and religion. Generally speaking, I think that people should…
This One isn’t for You, if You’re Offended by the F Word~
Fucking widowhoodFucking life without himFucking heavinessFucking memories of you dyingFucking bed sores Fucking hole in the base of your spine where the tumor ate through your bodyFucking having to live without you every damn dayFucking having to wake up and do life in the midst of fucking confusion that is just always there no matter whatFucking…
Much ado About Nothing
Nothing. I’d love to think about nothing. There’s a theory that men can compartmentalize their thoughts and there’s one compartment specifically for nothing. Either that’s a myth or the universe has played a very cruel trick on me. I long to turn my mind off. To sleep is struggle. It was, even before she left me. Now? Near…
Ghost House
I have been back home in Hawaii for a couple of weeks now after spending the holidays back East with my family, and my world has shifted on its axis. We are moved into the new place completely now. After nearly 17 years in that house, I do not live there anymore. I’ve spent many long, grueling hours the past couple weeks moving furniture,…
Time Unmeasureable~
My dearest, my most beloved husband, Chuck. Sarge. D. My heart, my heartbeat, the oxygen in my blood, my very breath… You were many names to me over the years. You were many things to me, as I was to you. You were everything to me, as I was to you. Life was daily living for us both, of course. We had our jobs, our individual friends and…
Flowers, Cake, and Change
When you are busy living and surviving and struggling inside your own life, it is often hard or damn near impossible to be able to recognize your own progress, shifts, and changes. Time goes by and you may feel stuck in place, or like things are moving in slow motion or not at all, when the reality may be quite different. Living life and grieving…