One of the questions I’ve asked myself frequently since Jeff’s death is “Am I ready and do I want to date?” Aside from the need for physical contact, I can’t say that in the first year I was at all ready for “dating”. Last year, my second year of widowhood, I thought I was. With trepidation and large amount of humility, I took a look at online…
Widowed and New Love
Visualizing Change
I just returned from a camping trip with my brother and his family. It was at one of those family RV resorts, where everyone is parked next to each other, row after row. There were activities galore all weekend long, and lots of happy couples, excited kids, proud grandparents, and me.Well, that’s how it felt most of the time. I’m sure that to…
To be continued…..
This picture was taken in 2006 by me…you can see me in the reflection. The headstone is mine, it sits right next to Daniel’s on a hill in Ellinger Texas. It’s in the cemetery next to the church we were married in. I’m sure my family and friends thought I was nuts when I ordered two headstones for our double plot. What did I need a headstone for?…
My Other Ring
About four months after Phil’s death, I returned to my nail salon for the first time since being widowed. As I sat in the chair trying to keep it together while idle chatter swirled around me, my manicurist looked up and asked if I was going to take off my rings. Absently I handed them to her (my engagement ring, my wedding ring, and Phil’s wedding…
Yes
I think for a long time I thought that I’d feel happiness through some sort of thick membrane – see it, sort of touch it, and even be able to experience it in a distant way, but I doubted I’d ever feel genuinely happy again. I was certain the lessons that life had taught me would keep me removed from true happiness – I just wouldn’t be able to let…
Bromance
Well, I’m dating. Okay, maybe I’m not really dating. I’m just not quite sure what to call it. It’s been awhile since I dated anyone, and, it’s been awhile since I have felt the need to qualify exactly what I am doing with another person. It’s kind of odd, going out with someone, talking, and texting several times throughout the week, wondering…
Every Sunday
(Written 2/2011) Every Sunday it happens. I go into my office to print out the grocery list. And find myself on the computer Searching for…… a distraction, a reason, a gift, something that will ease the unease.I read the past week’s posts of the other widows. I look at my emails. I answer the ones that don’t take much out of me. Finally, I…
I Have The Ring
I have The Ring. The one that binds all rings together. I’ve been looking at it lately Playing with it. Putting it on my left hand, where there has been no ring for over a year And it feels…not right anymore. It feels wrong on my left finger because it doesn’t feel like… me.The Ring. The one that binds all rings together. I had Art’s…
I’m in between
I’m currently in between jobs. Because I wasn’t exactly sure when my new job would begin, I had to play it cautiously, and give two weeks’ notice to my most recent employer. It was a matter of jumping through many pre-employment hoops, then playing the waiting game of all the required documentation to be returned to the Human Resources office,…
One of THE Most Difficult ….
…. Posts I’ve Ever Written. Something has changed. And I wasn’t even aware of it until 2 days ago. Which is kind of freaking me out, because this change was huge. So huge that it stunned me when I realized it. Literally. And then I wondered how I felt about it. I felt horrible and yet a little relieved at the same time. And I kept this change…
My Death Wish
Filling in for Jackie today with a post I wrote almost four years ago. Even today, I can clearly remember the feeling of wanting to be dead. It would have been terrifying if I were capable of feeling anything besides empty, but in that moment all I wanted was to be with Phil. Of all the words I have written over the past 5.8 months the ones I share…
not me.
after all that’sbeen happeningthe last week, i’m pretty sickof talking about myself, so here’s lifeas viewed throughsomeone else’s eyes.(i’m pretty proud of her).