…. and …. shockingly enough …. it came …. and went …. and I never saw it. Friday was the 18th, month 22. And I didn’t think about it one time. Even as I wrote the date down once or twice, it still didn’t occur to me. After last month’s tsunami of a wave slammed into me on that date I find this incredible. And very hard to believe. And a…
Widowed and Healing
Michele’s Musical Mondays
My personal taste in music is extremely eclectic. I am influenced by all kinds of things when it comes to music; including my children, though they claim to be unable to improve my musical tastes. One thing you can count on though is there will be music playing somewhere when I am driving, home alone with no kids to complain about what I am…
New Perspective on Sundays
It is my pleasure to introduce you to our new Sunday blog author, Kim T. Hamer. Five months ago Kim lost her husband, Art, to cancer. She was his caregiver. She is the mother of his children. She is a working professional, an unwillingly single mom, a bright and energetic lady, and a powerful writer. And we will experience all of this, and more,…
The Widda’ Elmhirst
It was true – the skin on my face was dry and it seemed to have turned a permanent, dull shade of gray. Every morning I put make up on, hoping that this would be the day that it would last beyond 7 AM. It never did. My eyes were dark and puffy. My eye lids hurt to touch.I lost ten pounds that I could not afford to lose, and it seemed that most of…
Twists and Turns
The concept of widowhood being a journey sometimes annoys me. Yeah, yeah, we KNOW this gut-wrenching, life-swirling, upside-down roller coaster of an experience is actually a journey! When I picture taking a journey, my mind conjures up Bilbo Baggins packing his mutton and tea and heading out into the beauty of the shire; not me rolled up in a ball…
What We Can’t See …..
…. can’t hurt us, right? Or at least that’s what we thought when we were 3. (The above picture is of Son #3 at Disney World with his beloved band Aerosmith’s hat upon/over his head.) But I wonder …. do I still think that what I can’t see can’t hurt me? I think I’d have to say the answer is yes. Why else would I only concentrate on the here and…
You Don’t Look Like a Widow….
I’ve heard that statement countless times in the past almost 4 years. I wondered early on, “what do widows look like then?” I knew what I thought they looked like before: old, black dress, and so very sad and lonely. Well, I had the sad and lonely part down pat. Old and a black dress? Not so much.At conference this year, I got a good glimpse of…
My Running Identity
There were a number of athletic activities that Phil introduced me to during our marriage. He loved all things outdoors, he especially loved risky sports, fast cars, and physically challenging tasks. Our vacations always included exercise related activities in beautiful locations, and we would regularly spend several hours a day hiking, biking, or…
The Death March
I dread deathiversaries, with my whole soul, as my daughter would say. This dread is instinctual, and has nothing to do with how happy I am in my current life. The creeping feeling of impending doom sneaks up on me at the same time every year, and at odd times when I am distracted by nostalgia or lost in a happy memory. Sometimes the feeling of…
Just One
Four years after Phil’s death, I am still trying to work out how to do twice as many tasks with half the amount of hands. The anniversary of his death stirs up emotions for the kids each and every year. You would think I could anticipate their reactions to this day of remembering by now, but I can’t. My own walk down memory lane includes my…
I’m Fighting
Michael and I fought….or as I called it….debated, over who took the trash out or burned whose clothes ironing. The minute…the small things. But out of those small things, simple and silly things, I found the most important thing to fight for… And that is our love.After losing Michael, I did not fathom the amount of adversity that comes…
Woman’s Intuition
Here in the North East, most public schools began their fall sessions this week. My sister, a first grade teacher, told me in an email that never in her life had she heard so much crying, five and six year olds being asked to leave their parents, many for the first time. According to my sister, “The sound of sobbing was everywhere.” I thought…