Some weeks go by and I find myself searching for signs or situations that give me insight into what I should write about each week. I fought looking for inspiration. I felt if i couldn’t write about Tin (or my life without him) that I was losing him more. Stressing about sharing sunk stories deeper […]
Widowed Belongings
Levels in Life
Clayton, I gave the bike away. The one you gave me for Christmas. I was going to ride it to work but life. Right? You got sick. I needed to have my car so I could get back to you as fast as possible each of every “our last days” and then you died – […]
Things.
I still have so many of Boris’s things. When he died, I think I moved too quickly in getting rid of a lot of stuff. I thought that I had to, I guess. I donated tons of shoes and clothes and some furniture. I even sold some of his valuable music and computer equipment. But, […]
My Road to Return
I have been having a near death experience. You know, where your life flashes in front of you, all the memories, sights, sounds and smells. That rewind reminder, which puts your whole past into a present perspective. No, there wasn’t an accident or anything sudden, my near death experience has been almost undetectable. How so? […]
Finding Change
I’ve written about finding coins before and there was a long time I didn’t find any. This week it seemed everywhere I turned there was a penny. I think I found 8 total and 3 in just one day. They go in my pocket, I forget until later and it’s like I’ve found them all […]
The Box (Part 1)
It was inevitable that I would start to reclaim for myself spaces we used to share, but then I procrastinate or stop short of finishing the task. Yes, it’s true that within hours of Lee’s death, in anger I had exorcised from our home numerous items, including the bottles and boxes containing her medicines, the […]
Homeless
I have been homeless since April 27th when I moved from my house. I should feel out of sorts and unsettled; but, really, I don’t feel much different than usual. I guess over the last 4.5 years I have become used to living in a constant state of restlessness and uncertainty. Moving usually causes people to feel stressed; but, for me, the opposite has occurred. I feel calmer since I left my house. This whole process has really been a lot less anxiety provoking and emotional than I anticipated it would be.
The Tangled Widowed Web
This week hit hard in a way I never expected. My Instagram account was hacked and a social media storm ensued. I started to get notifications from Instagram and friends that something was strange. I was completely locked out with no options to change my password and get stuff back. The hacker started to email […]
The Grief Tour
This week, my week before widowed, I took a trip off the main path of my journey and doubled back to the places I saw you last. My head said “yes” but my heart said “no don’t go”. It’s been 1,098 days since I could actually touch you, hear you and see you in person. […]
15 More Sleeps…
Fifteen more sleeps in this house of mine and then I have the rest of my life somewhere else.
Less is More
My worldly possessions feel heavy. They are housed in my home and chain me to a life that I no longer wish to participate in. I don’t give a shit about the stuff on my walls or the sofa across from me. It is all meaningless to me. What can it do for me? What does it do for anyone really?
Moving forward, I do not want things. What matters to me is the feel of things, not the actual things. I want to live a full and joy filled life that draws inspiration from experiences – not stuff. And, sure, it is true, I do like nice things; but material things do not fill my heart with happiness. In fact, my worldly possessions feel weighty to me. They feel like a burden to me. In the near future, I hope to travel and I do not want to have to worry about storing my things while I am gone. To me, more is less.
Bachelor of Grief
I never wanted to apply and enroll here at Widowed University. I’ve always been opened to learning more in life but I never wanted this education. Like I said last week, the build up to Clayton’s death day is one of the hardest times of the year for me. Two years last April I got […]