It’s a topic written about and commented upon, frequently. Little circles, made of gold or silver, encrusted with stones or plain. Maybe engraved. Little circles that symbolize so much. For such a tiny thing, they can wield so much power. Mine did. I loved being married to my husband. I loved our passion, I loved our friendship, I…
Widowed by Illness
The Beginning to the End
I received the parchment last week for a course I started about 18 months ago. No formal graduation, just a small package in the mail. Additional studies over and above my university studies. It’s the first thing I’ve done from beginning to end since Ian died. Wholly and completely without him. Concept to completion. I started it because…
Widow Confusion
Widowhood is confusing to me. I suppose every huge life change is, for those in the midst of it. My mind whirls with thoughts of my husband’s final days, his death, leaving southern California in my rear view mirror, driving away from him, being out on the road without him…the memories, and the pain that go with those memories, are strong and…
Attempt at a Christmas Tradition
Sunday marked two and a half years without Ian. The first year, I decided to mark the date with a visit to a iconic local Christmas light display – do something nice with John on the day that we’d done with Ian. It’s something we’ve done each Christmas since. Well, attempted to. This year’s attempt was not as disastrous as last year, but not…
A Step Up from Suffication
I reached a crisis point in my grief late last week. It was as if all the agony and devastation that lingers right under my skin suddenly became the surface of my skin and I felt like a wild animal that howls its’ pain to the night skies. It didn’t help that I’d been ill for almost a week, a vicious flu that tore up my body in every way possible.
Redecorating
Things around the house are starting to look quite a bit different from when Ian was here. Use of rooms has been shuffled. Furniture re-arranged in various rooms. I got extra kitchen cabinets installed six months after he died – a project Ian had started trying to get quotes for, but was having no luck what so ever. And now there a new paint…
This Dark Night of the Soul
This particular blog is one I don’t plan on editing or changing in any way. It’s completely raw writing from the darkness of this night that I’m in. I came in off the road not quite a week ago, right before Thanksgiving. My PinkMagic trailer is parked outside my son’s house here in Arizona. He recently moved in with his girlfriend, soon to be…
Mummy, Why is Pup Crying?
For today’s post I’m not really writing wearing my ‘widow’ hat, but my ‘mother of young boy’ hat. But I probably wouldn’t have the same perspective on this situation if I were not widowed. This past week a young Australian sportsman, a cricketer, was injured on the field and passed away from a rare brain injury caused by the impact of the…
Read Patiently. There is an Actual Point
It’s turned out, for me, to be all about the hair. I didn’t intend it to play out like this; it just has. Shortly after Chuck died, I cut my hair off to the scalp. Short, short, short. First scissors then a razor. It was done in a violent manner, in a way that I hoped would allow me to release some of the devastating pain of his forever…
And, longer than….
First, thanks to Chris for filling in while I dealt with preparing for and sitting 3 finals in 4 days. Of course, while I was meant to be studying, I came to the realisation of something. Come June 18th 2015, Ian will have been gone longer than we had known each other – three years and four days versus three years and three days. I have no idea…
The Road Well Traveled
My daughter and I are nearing the end of our 6 month road adventure. It will be the end of this particular segment of my Odyssey of Love. But it doesn’t end in Arizona when I drop her off. I’m going to take a one month break off the road, visit with my son and grand-daughter, meet my son’s girlfriend and her daughter (I’m really looking…
Secluded Paths
Maggie kept the beat in our relationship when it came to social engagements. She injected me into a lively social world that held me captive to weekends packed with activities, most of which were not optional. Now, without her overwhelming influence, I find myself woefully disengaged with what I think most people would consider normal life. We had…