When loss strikes, we have a way of denying ourselves of things. Whether it be the ability to smile since they can’t smile. The ability to see all the impact that they’re life left by focusing on the fact that they were taken so suddenly. The ability to celebrate life’s happenings, since they are not there to celebrate it with you. Our ability to…
Widowed and Healing
a better widow than me
Last night, I finally threw Jeff’s toothbrush in the trash. 3 years, 7 months and 22 days, since he used it to scrub his teeth clean. This action was precipitated a few days ago when I had spoken to a dear friend who is known for being outspoken and blunt. She doesn’t mean harm at all but is very Northern European in the delivery of her very strong…
I am not alone (why I am glad I blog)
I’m sitting here, calmly typing this and it’s been 622 days since my husband died. I know exactly how many days because of my regular blog. But to think that I can type this without tears would have been unthinkable a year ago. I began writing about my pain just over a month after the accident. I blogged everything because I knew I’d always be able…
The Fraudulent Widow
I have a confession to make. And to many of you it will sound preposterous. No doubt many of you will think that I am out of touch, delusional or didn’t have a “good” marriage. Some of you won’t believe me or won’t want to believe me. I am not of the widow crowd that believes that my husband, Art, was “my one and only love in my…
The Why’s
***This is a post I wrote 3 years ago today. Almost a bookmark to my progress.*** Why: adv. For what purpose, reason, or cause; with what intention, justification, or motive Now we know there are definitions, but in this case it is three letters that come together to become a word that has a way of haunting those of us who have felt cheated of a…
In my closet
I wore Jeff’s work coat the other night – Halloween night. It was the first time I have worn it in the three years since he died. I haven’t wanted it to lose any of his smell, cells or presence by donning it myself. But with it on, I felt warm, cuddled and protected from the cold Autumn wind biting at me as I followed the kids down a variety of…
old shoes and wooden spatulas
I’ve been sorting through our cupboards and closets and purging the least needed/most outgrown items lately in anticipation of living mostly indoors again after a summer in the backyard and beach. I have found mismatched gumboots, lost flashlights, a dried up snail and the odd coin. Most surprisingly, I have unearthed copious amounts of Jeff’s…
Sometimes You’re the Bug
Found this picture while looking for images that expressed how some of my days have been recently. This one made me laugh out loud! I’m glad to report that it isn’t as bad as all that…but there are moments when I feel like the shark is about that close. I think I sometimes lean heavily on the idea that “this isn’t hard, I’ve experienced hard,…
Meaningful Moments
This weekend I was out running a few errands with my daughter. We were at Lowes buying a replacement microwave oven. And, because I love gardening, anytime I’m at a store that has a garden section, there you will find me. I was walking down the aisle, pushing my cart, and looking at all the varieties of plants. I had something specific in mind, but…
He’s Not Here
Last weekend we moved. Our new place is smaller, more intimate. I like it. It’s simpler to manage. (There are only so many places Ezra’s left shoe can be!) It makes sorting through the boxes and boxes of stuff I should have sold, much simpler. (If it stays, exactly where is it going to go, Kim?) And I feel lighter here, less…
Burn
I know the phrase is a little off-putting but I think I’d be in naive in not noting those that have come in and out of my life since Michael’s death….though burning of bridges is probably an exaggeration of a statement. In the beginning of Michael’s death, many left or were hurt by the lack of understanding of the pain and loss I was feeling. As…
I’m Okay
Six years ago my husband died in a tragic accident (is there any other kind really?). I woke up the next morning, and felt certain that I had been dreaming. With my eyes closed, I slid my hand across the bed to Phil’s side, and felt the cold sheets where his warm body used to lie. I wasn’t dreaming. The pain of his absence was searing. There were…