It is easy enough for most of us to identify with our own, “widowed” side of the story. We’re the ones left behind when our partner dies. We are all suddenly single parents, sole breadwinners, alone, scared, and confused. It doesn’t matter if we’ve had years to accept the impending death, or minutes. But, what if we were on the other…
Widowed by Illness
Time and Wishing~
I’m coming up on 6 years since Chuck died. April 21. It’s weird how my brain works with time regarding his death. For the first 5 years I counted in days and weeks and months. In the last few weeks, I’ve found myself saying almost 6 years. Once April 21 comes…which is my New Year, by the way, instead of January 1, I know I’ll say it’s been over 6…
Coasting
January is when Megan was first diagnosed with chronic organ transplant rejection. February is Shelby’s birthday. May is Mother’s Day, June is when she was admitted to the hospital, never to come home again, July is her birthday, August is our anniversary, September is when the next year of school starts for Shelby, October is my birthday,…
It’s a Real Thing. Camp Crash~
Holy shit, is it a real thing. Camp Crash. Michele, thankfully, speaks about it each year, prior to Sunday morning breakfast. Fair warning of gales ahead, campers. Brace yourselves.I first attended Camp Widow in 2015. Chuck had been dead for 2 years at that point. I didn’t know a soul there. I hadn’t connected with any widowed groups on fb. I was…
Self-Caretaking
For much of my life, I have been what can best be described as “grumpy”. I’ve tended to over-react and or see the worst in things, and myself. Something as simple as going to the grocery store brought out a part of me that only wanted to see the worst of humanity, followed by a reaction resembling anger, then followed by regret and shame at…
Anger, and Being Brown
Anger, my good friend, anger. You are so reliable, so constant, yet elusive, sometimes I can’t see you, but then suddenly you appear, snarl and bite. you are always there, always so patient, you never shut me down and tell me to look on the bright side, with you, I can ‘be dark’ and talk about death whenever and wherever I want. You are…
Me and the Universe~
I met Christina Rasmussen, from Second Firsts, early in my widowhood, on her first book tour. She was in Boston and I was in NH, so I drove to the book store holding the event, and heard her speak for the first time. It didn’t change the emotions of my widowhood, but her words, her philosophy about life after loss touched me deeply. It was my…
Empathy? Please Sir, May I Have Some More?
I find that my deams often reveal the detail of my grief. In a recent dream, my wife was scolding me for my parenting approach, “You too often let her get away with not eating fruits and veggies!” Clearly, I have not moved on from feelings of self-doubt about my parenting skills. I know most parents struggle with healthy food…
Widowing and Renaisance Faires
My motto, since Chuck died, is push your boundaries. Stretch your comfort zones. Go where you’ve never gone before. It hasn’t been difficult to do this, honestly. Chuck died in southern CA, in our 4th year on the road. I had no home to return to; we’d sold it, and our belongings, years before, to go adventuring. So I was already well accustomed to…
Comparing, Comparing and more Comparing
One of the most fundamental aspect of our species is that we are constantly comparing everything. Walking down the street, our brains are constantly comparing the faces of strangers to faces of people we know. Isn’t that? …no, she’s too tall to be her. Comparing helps us cross the street and be safe—we have an image of a safe…
Grief. Secondarily~
The easy affection between us. The teasing. The flirtatious wink across the room from him to me. The sensation of electricity skimming across my skin when he entered a room where I was, even before I saw him.The passion. Holding hands. The sweet kisses that lasted for at least 30 seconds because I’d read a book about relationships early on in our…
Whispers of Memory~
Whispers of memory In the halls of Time Drift through me Like the clouds of mist That suddenly appeared around us as we wandered the soft ground of Muir Woods so many years ago. Memories that begin, now, with our final times together. Me, huddled in the courtyard gardens of hospice rocking to and fro on my knees, arms hugging my…