Two years ago today, Megan was admitted to the hospital for the final time. Her rejection had already been diagnosed months before, and she was heading in for a yet another check-up and round of tests. Her dad was going to take her to the appointment, I was going to head to work, and she would be back in the evening. I carried her to the car…
Widowed and Healing
Changing the Walls
Yesterday, we painted a wall. To me, this was no ordinary wall, this was the last major wall in the downstairs of Mike’s house to change since Megan died. Now, when you look through the living room, dining and kitchen, all of it has a totally new color scheme from when she was living. Which leads me to talk about a very touchy aspect of…
A New Beginning
I’m at a strange and new phase in my grief. My third wedding anniversary is looming on Thursday (all of which I’ve had to mark without Dan, because he died before we had the chance to celebrate one together). This is a time that is usually difficult and emotional. However… my whole compass for what is ‘normal’ in this world without him has…
Making Plans Anyway
This morning I’m sitting some fifteen feet up in the air surrounded by woods, near the northern border of Arkansas, and it seems no accident that the book I brought with me to read is titled “The Gifts of Imperfection”. A few days ago, Mike and I made the 14 hour drive down to Eureka Springs. Why? To stay in a treehouse cottage, which has always…
The Family I Never Knew I Needed
I spent last weekend in Melbourne with about a dozen very dear friends. These women have only been in my life for a couple of years now, however it feels like I’ve known them my whole life. They see my soul, in its most bare and vulnerable state, a way that people who have known my most of my life will never understand. These are my widow…
Frozen In Place
A friend died this week – far too soon. A very dear, sisterly, special person I had known and loved for many years. Our friendship had suffered since Mike died…for a lot of reasons…they are personal and not for public airing. But there is no blame to pass around. Relationships can be complicated. And they can be further complicated when someone…
The Trauma of Going Home
I’m down in Texas this weekend. It’s my first visit in almost 6 months since moving to Ohio. Drew’s little sister is graduating… or actually, just did, yesterday. I arrived here on Thursday morning and immediately felt that beautiful rush of comfort of the familiar. The old, wide oak trees, the rolling hills, the warmth of the Texas heat… it…
Taking Another Step Forward
I’m exhausted. I’ve been packing, cleaning, sorting and lugging boxes all day, actually no – for weeks now. My bones ache, my feet are sore and I’m typing this through bleary eyes. On Monday morning, two guys in a van will be pulling into the driveway of my big family home, filling it with all my precious possession and moving me into my new…
The Accidental Mother, Part 2
I have the ironic honor of always writing on Mother’s Day, being the Sunday writer here at Widow’s Voice. Ironic because it always forces me to evaluate my feelings about a holiday I have mostly chosen not to celebrate since my own mother died when I was young. I hate this day, or at least, I mostly always have. But this post isn’t about that.
One Risk at a Time
This was me, back in 2009. The week Drew and I began dating, we jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. It was a pivotal experience for me… and changed my beliefs in myself and how I dealt with risk and fear in my life. I have always been a cautious person, but every so often, I discovered after this day, I am able to make some pretty big leaps.
Just Do Something
For the past week, maybe two, I have been in a complete and total funk. There hasn’t been any specific trigger. No anniversaries, birthdays, significant dates to remember, or big “firsts without Megan” that have occurred. It is the same as always…I wish she were here and I miss her, but the grief of losing her is not overpowering. I…
1000 days
Dear Dan, This week we reached another milestone, albeit not exactly a traditional one. On Tuesday, it had been 1000 days since I kissed you goodbye. The reason I know this is because I put a ‘countdown’ ap on my phone after you died, so I’d always know how many months, weeks or days since you’d been gone. Isn’t that a strange thing to want to…