I’m in Virginia now visiting my folks, in the house where I grew up. The summer after Mike died I visited here too, and was inconsolable…memories of texting my friend and fellow widow Margaret late into the night, sobbing, tears streaming down my face…unable to conceive of a world, or a life, without him. Every visit since tinged with those…
Widowed Memories
On Top of Ole Smoky
Straddling the North Carolina- Tennessee border, Great Smoky Mountains National Park is a sea of lush forests, countless animals, and high mountains. It’s my favorite place on earth. I’ve been there countless times since I was young, and until Megan died, it had never been more than a few years since taking a trip there. I know the park…
Sharing With Myself
No matter what else happens to us in this life, no matter where we go or what we do, we will forever carry the memories of our lost loves in our hearts. Even other widowed people will never be able to exactly understand all the details of our past lives with our husbands or wives who are now gone.I can talk to my widowed friends about Mike, I can…
Existence
“I would rather be ashes than dust!I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.The function of man is to live, not to exist.I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.I shall…
My Life With Grief
I write a lot about how strange and even unrecognizable my life is now. I can’t explain exactly how I got here, but I can tell you a little about what it’s like, just over three years after my husband died. I wake up every morning thinking of Mike. Reminders of him are everywhere in my house, on this island, and in my heart and mind. So in…
A Recipe for Life after Loss
So here we are again, at yet another holiday in the “after” life… only this one for me is very different. Firstly, I’m in Ohio, not Texas. Mike, Shelby and I are up early. The two of them are in the kitchen starting to cook up a feast for Easter while I write this. In about 5 hours, Mike’s family will be over and we will be doing a whole…
A sea of flowers
So last Friday was the annual Circle of Remembrance memorial held by the Kona Hospice. It takes place at Hulihe’e Palace, an absolutely beautiful spot in Kona town. The building itself has a lot of history for Hawaii, which I thought about a lot sitting there; the place has a lot of history for me personally too. Mike loved it so, so much…
Sadness and Sugarplums
Here’s the sucky thing about being widowed. Well, one of the many sucky things about it anyway. Holidays will always be hard. They will always be tarnished with lost love and that empty chair at the table. There is just no getting around it, and it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I’ve been thinking about it a lot this year – my third since Mike…
Mileage
My new car is awesome. I never drive it or think about it without a wistful wish that Mike were here sharing it with me, but it is still awesome. He would have loved it too. A brand spanking new car with bells and whistles like I’ve never had before. My Subaru was a 2003 and Mike’s truck is a 1996 so I feel like I’ve been dropped headfirst into a…
Stream of Life
Some weeks I feel like I’m just going to repeat myself. Because some weeks, nothing much changes. Nothing changes in how much I miss Mike, and nothing changes in how many changes I’m seeing happen in my life. I can’t stop it. Time is hurling itself forward at an increasingly rapid pace…at least, that’s how it seems, some days. After…
Exit Ramp
Last weekend, Sarah and I decided to take a drive around the west side of Cleveland. We didn’t have any real plan; just to head out to a small town on the Lake Erie shore, and see where we ended up. Shelby was staying with Megan’s mother, so we were free to have a random Sunday. After having some lunch at an old soda fountain in a…
The Things We Carry
“They shared the weight of memory. They took up what others could no longer bear. Often, they carried each other, the wounded or weak.” from The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien This quote is from a story by Tim O’Brien about men who were in the Vietnam war. It is a classic story that speaks to the universal themes of memory and loss. As I…