As I write this blog post, I am preparing for a 10 day, silent retreat at a women’s Buddhist retreat centre a few hours south of my home. I will be offline and encouraged to set aside all reading and writing devices for the entire retreat. The thought of this, I must admit, is a bit terrifying. I am well acquainted with being on my own and not…
Widowed Emotions
Come and Take It
And so just like that… I am about to put in an application on a rental house in Ohio. What? How the hell did this happen? It was only weeks ago that Mike and I sat down and had a serious talk about the idea of me moving up there… if I did, how would we do this? I decided, after having lived with Drew’s parents since he died, I need to get a…
What A Man Is
I am a strong and fiercely independent woman. I always have been. When I was 18 years old, in 1990, I left my comfy small town of Groton, Massachusetts, to attend college and live in NYC. I wanted to be a performer, actor, comedian, writer, or anything that got me out of that boring and predictable suburban life. I wanted more. So I went out on my…
The Interview
As this posts I will be on my way back to my little grass shack in Hawaii from my adventure in the UK. I planned to have things posted so I needn’t worry about posting from who-knows-what wifi I will have while I am away. But I can only imagine what I will be thinking about when I return.I feel impelled forward into this strange, new life. I feel…
The Two Sides of Fall
Kelly Lynn’s post about autumn inspired me this week. She was speaking to the idea of how grief makes us live in black and white for a time… how it removes all the color from our lives. This year, as her favorite season approaches she is seeing in color again for the first time since Don died. She and I have gone through these colorless years…
I Choose Love – Over and Over Again
My mum had a fairly serious surgery this week and has been staying with me in the city while she recovers. She’s ok, and we’re confident that she will be ok ‘long term’, but she’s had a rough time both physically and emotionally. One of the hardest things about being widowed is that I have this horrible intimate knowledge about how…
The Flowery Pit
Rebecca’s post here a month or two ago sent my mind wandering into yet another metaphor…again I will apologize in advance for my perhaps overuse of this device. It just seems to be one of the ways I deal with the grief; it’s how my mind works, trying to find a way to make sense of it all. She was writing about her trip to Bali and a…
Sensory Math
When Megan died, i went into full sensory deprivation mode. I could no longer see her face, hear her voice, taste her lips, smell her body wash, or touch her skin. When suddenly, all five of my senses were deprived of their primary stimulant, I became numb. I would venture to say that this is the case for most widows and widowers. …
The Warrior and the Wildflowers
Before Drew died, I was not the softest person. Sure I was kind and loving and generous, but mainly just with him – the one person I trusted above all others. I honestly rarely gave anyone else my heartfelt genuine love – because I did not trust people. I always kept everyone but him at arms length, but did I good job of disuising myself as…
A Big Little First
This weekend has been amazing. Challenging, scary, exhausting, sweet, beautiful, silly, and bursting at the seams with love. Mike and Shelby have been here now for 3 days and this afternoon they head home back to Ohio. I can scarcely even put into words how amazing and terrifying all this has been. After countless hours of Skype calls – to meet her…
The Anger isn’t as Important as the Love
Last weekend I attended the wedding of one of my husband’s closest friends. This happened to fall on the second anniversary of his funeral, and a week after his anniversary. I always knew it was going to be a difficult time. I knew it would hurt and bring up all kinds of triggers, sad thoughts and memories. But somehow, despite knowing…
Widows Walk
I am fortunate to have many beautiful family and friends in my life. Today, though, I feel moved to express just how important all my widowed friends are to me. I know I would not be able to walk through my own life now without them. The day Mike died, as we were making all those terrible phone calls, and just after that word “widow” had…