I’ll admit his sudden absence after having been home 24/7 for the past few months definitely has the triggers talking. It’s as if the widow part of me is suddenly on high alert because a person is here less than normal and it doesn’t compute. It only knows to be worrying that this means death and pain are coming.
Widowed and New Love
New Love in the Time of COVID-19
Main image courtesy of Ruben Rojas, Street Artist, in Los Angeles How does a new relationship, even one that truly feels right, profound, rich, loving… how does it survive, how can it survive, in the time of COVID-19? How can Zoom sessions, WhatsApp calls and texts, photos, and even the occasional letter, be a substitute […]
Survivor Superpowers
If there is one thing hardship can help us develop in ourselves, it is a resolve that no matter what life throws at us, we will not back down or be broken. We can decide that we will not stop believing that life can be beautiful, and funny, and wonderful, and full of love. We can decide not to give in to the idea that I grew up with – that “normal” is best or better somehow. Instead, we who have been through the hard shit can embrace the fact that life has thrown it’s hardest stuff at us, and not only did we make it through, but by God, we made something beautiful of it too.
One Stood Up Widow
Dating is hard enough as it is but adding the layer of “Oh I’m also widowed” changes the landscape drastically. For some of us, we don’t even think about dating and for others we have reached a point in our life where we can begin to date again. I know Clayton would want me to […]
Dreams, Love and Gratitude
I wrote about unconditional love and gratitude some weeks ago, so you’re probably wondering why I’m writing about these things again. Well, I’m not writing specifically about those same topics as I shared then. Instead, I want to share about these three things together: dreams, love and gratitude.
What do I mean? To me, these things are inseparable.
My life’s dreams always included some form of love and gratitude. Those dreams have always been about true love and what it means to me. But my dreams were also my hopes for a future. They were what I thought I was meant to do.
Mothers’ Day
This is the sixth Mother’s day since Megan’s death. Shelby is now starting to actually outgrow her mother’s shoes, and she’s almost as tall at 13 as Megan was at 33. She looks like her. A real “bean pole” right now. At this age, she’s more concerned about video games, reading, riding her bike, and texting her friends than anything else. From the outside looking in, it’s almost as-if she’s forgotten about her mother.
Threadbare
Image by Nick Fewings on Unsplash I am in a hard place. A fragile space. Hard and fragile. That sounds like “brittle”. That works too. The six weeks of “hard and fast and furious dates” between 27th March and 2nd May are finally over, culminating in Ben’s 21st birthday yesterday. I so wish he’d had his dad […]
Postponing Weddings, but not Love
If there is one thing widowhood has taught me, it’s that love never ever goes anywhere. I love Drew the same as I ever have, and now I love Mike too. If the worst comes to my door again, if someone I love dies, I will know that I have tried to be good and kind and loving and connected with everyone I care for.
Bittersweet
Photo by Bannon Morrissy on Unsplash 24 April 2020 More stories of dates. And Dates. Sometimes I count a year as 52 weeks. Sometimes I count a year as 365 days. Or 366 days as the case may be. Sometimes I remember the day something happened. Sometimes the date is more important. And sometimes the Date. It’s […]
Messages from Mike
There seems to come a time in life for those of us who do not grow up with formal religion – and perhaps it’s triggered by loss and hardship, perhaps by age – where we search for meaning in losses and in life, and messages or clues that there might be something before and after […]
Acceptance
My awakening was the rationalization that Suzanne was truly gone. It didn’t actually take very long after she died. In fact, I woke up, bolt upright, in the middle of the night around a month after she died and had that sudden overwhelm of emotion and knowing that she was never, ever coming back.
It was in that moment that I realized that she was truly gone. She hadn’t just “slipped into the next room” or “gone away and would be right back.”
No. I was fully conscious of the fact that she had died.
The Wrong Kind of Dates
About a year ago, I ventured a little toe into the on-line dating waters. Everything about the idea was absurd, unfathomable, unimaginable. Before that, I’d had a couple of months where I bravely, if hesitantly, asked trusted friends, “Do you know anyone who knows anyone who knows anyone (etc) who might know a nice man […]