What is a park to you? A place to walk your dogs, read a book among nature, or just listen to the chirping birds? For me, I’ll be honest with you all….Starting at the age of 16 the park became a place where Michael and I could get away from our parents, sit on a picnic table and have lunch , and do what teenagers do (I’ll let your imagination go…
Widowed Emotions
The self-centeredness of grief.
Dear Wonderful Widows. Grieving is a self-centered act. It must be. It requires paying attention to one’s own broken heart, taking the time needed to adjust to a very different existence, and learning to live in a changed world. Grieving requires self-care. This is especially true for widows with children. We eventually find that the only way our…
Next Box.
I’ve moved twice since David passed. Both moves necessary, emotional, and exhausting. I moved into this house 3 months ago. I had unopened boxes from both moves and at some point I just stopped unpacking. Those that remained were shoved into the guest bedroom with the door shut. From time to time I would consider opening the door and organizing the…
Sometimes It’s So Painful … I Just Have to Laugh
Do you ever have one of those days when you think that nothing, NOTHING could top the last stupid thing that happened to you? Today was one of those days. I had three very stupid, and potentially painful, items in my mailbox. All three were from our government. I will refrain from saying any more on that.The first piece was from Social Security.
My Friend Grief
Over the past four years grief and I have reluctantly become friends. Grief is not the kind of friend I can call in the middle of the night when I am sad, but rather the kind of friend who sits quietly at the end of my bed while I cry myself to sleep. Grief may be away for weeks or even months at a time, but the knock of this friend is now as…
I Can’t Think About Him ….
….for very long. I find that it’s emotionally and physically impossible for me to sit and just think about Jim. I cannot reflect on memories. Not yet. I can only think of him in snatches of time. And only for a moment. I wonder if this is how most people deal with grief?If I sit and think about him for more than a moment then I feel myself…
Contentment: Again with the Happy Place?
This picture is a narrow, winding street in the village of Stamford, England. It’s a gorgeous town of stone buildings, quaint shops, quiet pubs, and lovely sheep fields. I’ve more than a few memories of the place. I’m not thinking about the little town though as I look at this photo. I’m entranced by the path the road is portraying, and I’m…
Changing Perspective
There is a Fleetwood Mac song called “Say Goodbye,” that has broken my heart repeatedly over the last four years. I have found the concept of saying goodbye to Phil so difficult that I have avoided it like the plague since he died. You see, there are still speed bumps on this road of grief that I have yet to cross over.Phil and I were blissfully…
Our “Invincible Summers”
Last week when I was posting to this blog I saw the following quote in the right hand column of the Widows Voice website. “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” Albert Camus Albert Camus died in 1960. His life was not easy. His father died when he was an infant and he was raised in extreme…
A Life Altered
Still, I am taken back when someone in David’s life has just learned of his death. How could they not have known??! Shouldn’t anyone who had ever come in contact with him during his life have felt the earth pause the moment he passed away? As if the earth should have been altered if he no longer walked upon it. Dramatic, I know. It’s the best…
Wishing
I sometimes wonder what would happen if all the wishes people made on stars came true. Where would my life be today if my whims were met by the imaginary wish granter in the sky who hears the things our hearts whisper when we witness those flashes of light across the night sky? One thing is certain, my heart has definitely not been whispering over…
Ouch
I have been on my back for the last 3 weeks or so, nursing an inflamed sacroiliac joint. What a pain! Literally. Every turn and twist, every journey to the bathroom (all of 25 painful feet) and every trek to the kitchen elicits mild and not-so-mild expletives. Thankfully, my daughter is in school and the walls are my only witness. Of course, lots…