As my grief continues to evolve, I carefully consider who I am today. And, I recognize and accept that both potential and lost possibilities coexist in me. This duality is one of the hallmarks of widowhood. I am at once full of potential; and, concurrently, I have lost my ability to fulfill some of my previous desires. This is just plain lousy. I won’t pretend it isn’t.
Widowed Holidays
The Pain and Possibilities of “Yes”
The first thing I learned to do when Clayton passed away was say “No”. I said no to getting out of bed, no to eating, no to showering, no to the gym. No was the safest place I could hide myself. Saying no stopped the world and that is just where I wanted to be. […]
Undoing~
The holidays. Sometimes “The Holidays”. Tra la la la la. In the midst of grief, the words loom large. They loom large even when it isn’t about intense grief but just…eh. THE HOLIDAYS. Tra la frickin’ la. I just spent the last month grinching out to my kids about my feelings regarding the holidays. No […]
My Veteran~
I was born into a military family. My dad was career Army, a West Point graduate. Two of my brothers served in the Navy and the Marines, respectively. A good part of my growing up years were spent on military bases, both in Germany and the States. My dream came true when I spotted Chuck […]
Fall
Each year, I feel myself falter and fall when the leaves change color because I know that Mike’s death date is looming large. Thankfully, over the years, I have learned to trust that I can and I will break my fall using my own grit and grace. With time, I have come to value and appreciate the beauty in my own strength. Now, I believe in myself the same way Mike believed in me. This is big, big stuff. This is Mike continuing to love on me from across dimensions.
I have come to know my own capability. Finally, I see what he saw in me. It is ironic that it took Mike’s death for me to see myself in the light he saw me in. With this reflection, I now have the ability to fiercely love myself – the way he once did. What a way to honor the big love he had for me. In his absence, I can love myself wholly and madly for him and because of him. This is how Mike’s love lives on. And, this feels pretty wonderful.
Tears of A Clown
It’s Halloween again. I used to mark my year’s passing by holidays and life events. Now that Clayton is gone, my year is filled with reminders written in grief across the days, weeks, months and seasons. My year is a grief calendar. It’s been four years since I really did anything. We dress up at […]
I want MIKE!
I am just back from a brave week of open water swimming in the waters of the La Maddalena Archipelago, off the north-east coast of Sardinia. Brave because it’s the end of summer – indeed early autumn (we had three days of wind & rain, and four days of decent – albeit windy sunshine) Brave […]
Grief’s Rewinding
It has been 866 days since Clayton past away, 867 days since I said “I love you” and kissed him on the forehead for the last time. Those first few days after he died felt like years. Every minute was the first of that minute without him. Every day was the first Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday […]
Nice enough. Just not “right”
View of “Le Canigou” – the Pyrenees’ highest mountain – from my parents’ house, after a summer storm 3 August 2020 We have been on holiday now for a “fat” week. “We” is Megan, Ben, Medjool and me. A “fat” week is 10 days. The first 7 days were spent in the Camargue, a beautifully […]
Incongruities of a Summer’s Day
Just like I always feel a twinge of glee on 21st December (we have reached the shortest and darkest 24-hour period in the Northern Hemisphere – yippee!), I also feel a twinge of sadness on 21st June when we have reached the longest, lightest day. There’s a clear message there about not living in the […]
Multiple Versions of Mother’s Day
Today, as I write, Sunday 10th May 2020, it is Mother’s Day in North America. And, closer to home, in Switzerland too. The day during which, in former times, people congratulate mothers on being mothers. People bring their mums flowers, make them a meal, take them out for a meal. Or just call them and […]
Double Duty
When he died, he was in the processing of teaching the boys how to do many of these tasks. Mike thought he had time. And, then time ran out. Death robbed us overnight. And, I find this ironic because Mike was a police officer. He was supposed to protect us from the injustices of life. But, sometimes things just aren’t fair. And, lousy things happen to good people; and, then, they are forced to somehow gather themselves and limp forward.