This photo was taken at Lake Mead in Nevada about two weeks before Phil died. We were on a family vacation with some wonderful friends, and spent some time in a gorgeous cove. You are looking at Phil and my daughter, Caitlin, preparing to jump off of those rocks into the lake below. Notice that I am not up on the rocks.Phil was Mr. Adventure. He…
Widowed Emotions
Another First …..
…. with less waves and more new memories. At least for today. And that’s how I take my days ….. one at a time.Today I drove with Daughter #3 to Austin (after a very full, very tiring day) to help her move into and get settled in her new apartment. This is something that I should have done with Jim …. but ….. you know the end of that story.
What Kind of Man?
What kind of man is capable of loving a widow? Would he always wonder if he measured up to the dead man whose image has a prominent place in my bedroom? How would he handle the mention of said dead husband in everyday conversation? At some point would he tire of having to be patient while a grief wave rolled, unannounced, over his girl? What would…
What Kind of Closet?
There are lots of things we put in closets. There are things you expect to find inside like sweaters, dresses, and shoes. Then there are the other things that you can’t find a place for like old yearbooks, memory boxes, or last year’s tax returns. Perhaps there are mothballs, spiderwebs, or the odd price tag from a purchased item….all of this you…
Road Trip
I recently ventured out on an 18 hour solo road trip. I have been on road trips and driven long hours but never to this length and by myself, so there were apprehensions. 18 hours of a task in which you have no other company but oneself can be a scary thing. Thoughts, memories, what-ifs all take full reign and can be exhausting and draining.I hit…
Still human…
I arrived back home (Cape Cod) from my vacation and the Conference on Widowhood late last night and went straight to bed, more tired than tired. This morning I got up and took a look around. The grass needed to be mowed, the garden needed to be weeded, and the house had a layer of fine dust that I couldn’t see but I knew was there. My desk was…
110 Carriage Place
There’s something daunting about entering the place where your life last thrived. I know for a while now that I had to make a trip to Clarksville, TN, where David and I were stationed, but I chose not to dwell on the idea. To be honest, we’d be happy in a cardboard box so long as both of us fit in it, but Clarksville was never our favorite place to…
Put on a Happy Face…
Here’s my happy face. This smile isn’t fake, it was very sincere at that moment – I’m sure the free margaritas were enough to buy some sincerity, but I could be wrong. ;-)In the first months after Daniel died I didn’t feel like I put on a happy face. I didn’t feel capable of it. I’ve heard from others that I did and I seemed to be “okay”. Three and…
Remembering When
The word remember has taken on a new meaning since Phil died. Looking back is both painful and comforting. Sometimes recalling a specific event that I shared with Phil causes a jarring pain in my chest. These memories are often visceral…the atmosphere of a specific restaurant; the inflection of Phil’s brother’s voice; or the smell of a hotel…
A Thin Thread
I’ve always felt like I related to this art piece made by my sister-in-law. It reminds me of pain. Of strength. Of holding on. Of hope. Do you ever feel like you’re hanging on by the thinnest thread? I had been running on empty for a while now… feeling dry and indifferent… Feeling like I had given everything that I had to give, leaving nothing…
WINGS and Things
My coach once shared a quote with me that said, “Take the Leap and Build the Wings on the Way Down.” That was in 2006, about a year and a half after my husband Rory passed away, when I found myself at a major crossroad both personally and professionally. To bottom line it, I knew I had to make significant changes in the way I worked, how much I…
Death by Sunburn??
My (rather new) significant other is a geologist. A few months ago, he left (Martha’s Vineyard) for the desert West of Palm Springs CA to do field work. He called me each day, either before he left to do field work in the desert, or after he returned. All was well. I was, and am, bonkers over him. I enjoyed our telephone connection. We were a new…