I read one of his journals today. I read it because I sold our bed, in three hours. I had to empty out his bedside table (they went too) before the guy came to pick it up.Later, as I try to decide where a mattress on a floor would look best, in MY room, I get side tracked and sift through the box of stuff from the bedside tables. I sit down, pick…
Widowed by Illness
The Value of a Friend (Part Five thousand and two…)
I recently attended the Soaring Spirits annual board retreat. Each year the board members get together in the same place to brainstorm ideas for the foundation, establish our annual goals, reestablish our focus for the year and just “be together”. Our board meets regularly, once a month, but our meetings are held via Skype because four of us…
Still A Toddler
Well, it’s Sunday night, and I just realized I needed to get to writing my Monday post. I have kept very busy today with home improvement projects. And, because of Spring being at my door, I have been miserable with allergies. I seem to be popping Benadryl all day long, as if they were breath mints, which is likely why I have been so drowsy all day…
The Widow Card Part 2
I got a traffic ticket a few months ago. Should have hopped out of the car immediately waving my husband’s death certificate. (There is a copy in my computer case, not sure why I leave it there or how it even got there) Instead, I sat in the car, feeling guilty about even thinking about using the widow card… to get out of something that was…
We Scare the Hell Out of People
Widowed people are scary. Who knew? I’ve noticed it in the past 5 years and it took me a while to figure it out. Our tragedy makes people uncomfortable in a way that is hard to describe unless you’ve experienced it. But it’s true. I think it is more than just not knowing what to say to us, or thinking we might cry suddenly. I think we scare…
I Will …
The “Tired” post now has 35 comments. The last time I got almost that many comments was on April 13, 2009. Three days before Art died. This post read… —– They told me to bring the kids in. They told me to bring the kids in. It’s over and I, I, I just …. I feel nothing.The hardest part about this… No wait, the right now hardest part…
Man Stuff
Funny how time flies. G was 2 months old in this picture with his Dad, and 5 years later he lost his Dad to cancer. Five years with your dad is not enough time. In the 5 years since Daniel died, I’ve tried to be both mom and dad to him…dusting him off when he falls, being sympathetic, being supportive, being harsh when it was needed…it’s tough…
And the Oscar goes to…
No, I’m not watching The Academy Awards. Not that it doesn’t interest me. I used to be one of those people who saw every single film nominated, even the foreign and sometimes documentary. I love film, and I love story telling, but that love, those interests, are part of those things that have dropped by the wayside. Friends and family are still…
Tired
I’m tired of being a widow. I’m tired of bringing the car to the mechanic when the red maintenance light visually screams at me. I’m tired of running out of food and being responsible for getting more. I’m tired of waking up by myself.I’m tired of being solely responsible for: Bringing in all the income Paying all the bills Making sure…
Judging Grief
I’ve frequently thought over the past years that I was doing this whole grief thing wrong. Clearly I wasn’t sad enough, skinny enough, or laying in bed enough. I was also not happy enough, not moving forward quickly enough, and not dating anyone yet. Once I wasn’t so wrapped up in the actual grieving that I couldn’t see anything but my own shoes,…
Get the BLEEP Away from Me!!
Take your hands off of me! I said get away from me! Only you don’t understand it cause the words that are coming from my mouth are… “Damn it, L! How many times do I need to tell you to pick up, wipe off, clean up your _____ (insert typical mother rant hear.) I CAN NOT DO THIS ALONE!” I yell.Really wanting to throttle him, to give my hands…
Not A Quitter
I had one of those conversations with a stranger. You know, the one that starts with “so how long have you been divorced?” This one ended up lasting a bit longer than usual, despite my lob of the usually effective conversation stopper: “I’m not divorced, I’m a widow, my husband died 5 years ago.” Instead, this person wanted the details – she was…