…. or does anyone else ever feel like moving away and starting over? From everyone that knew them “before” …. and from all of those friends who can’t seem to see you as anything but “different” ….. and it all seems to get worse as time goes on? I have now passed the 4 year mark. This is my life. I am no longer married. I am single. I get…
Widowed Milestones
Immovable Objects vs The Business of Change
The Business of Change that I started back in mid-September continues on. There’s just so much stuff to go through and just so little willpower on my part. Despite all the difficult work packing her 118 pair of shoes into boxes, only one box has made it to a new home. (I remind myself that one is better than none – and even one is still a…
He’s Not Here
Last weekend we moved. Our new place is smaller, more intimate. I like it. It’s simpler to manage. (There are only so many places Ezra’s left shoe can be!) It makes sorting through the boxes and boxes of stuff I should have sold, much simpler. (If it stays, exactly where is it going to go, Kim?) And I feel lighter here, less…
Clean, Fresh Landing
We’re moving. September 16 the packers come. September 17 they take it all and move it to our new digs. I’ve been clearing out, getting rid of stuff, And bumping into him.On Thursday, the kids and I emptied out his closet. He had his own closet. It was such a tiny thing for such a big man. (6’6″) At four months, I got rid of all the clothes…
They just don’t get it…
I make no secret of the fact that I want a permanent teaching gig at the kids’ school. I changed career a couple of years ago so that I could spend more time with my kids, and my aim has always been to work in a primary school, preferably the same one that the kids attend. But those jobs are hard to come by. So I took a position teaching maths…
Another Ugly Four Letter Word
Everyone: Carl. Carl: Everyone. So there, now you’ve met. The last few weeks have been full of big changes for us. We’ve bought a new home, he moved into my house for a few weeks during the remodel of the new house, and now we’ve moved into our house together. The wedding is still a few months away, but well into the planning stages. Holy cow we…
Sick, Clothes and Backwards
The last two days I’ve been sick. Fever. I found myself lying in my bed, the wrong way. Backwards (head where my feet usually are, feet where my head usually is) The fever is making me feel backwards. I’m preparing to move from the house the kids, Art and I have been in for 6 years. (Huh. The kids and I have been here for six, Art only 4.)…
Flooding
I hate to think I need bad stuff to happen to put life in perspective. Haven’t I already tortured myself enough, trying to understand painful life lessons after my wife’s passing? After three years, haven’t I come out on the other side a better person?On the three year anniversary of Lisa’s passing, my parent’s basement flooded due to…
“Our Struggle”
“We’ve all had our struggles…” And that’s when I stop listening. For her to throw the death of my husband, the life that I lead trying (and failing most of the time) to keep my head above water, for her to lump me in with someone’s divorce, or hospital stay or job loss (well….job loss maybe), for her to insinuate that being a young…
Ouch! again
Damn them. Damn the U.S. Postal Service for being the excellent trackers they are. And, damn life for it’s ongoing kick in the stomach. It has been 11 months since I moved away from our San Francisco home, in need of a fresh start with as few reminders as possible. It’s been two further moves once settled in San Diego. I didn’t want to spend the…
On the Humor of Our Grieving …
…. and a paragraph about a dream. This is a post I wrote back in March of 2008, three months after Jim died. The kids and I traveled to Oklahoma, where Jim was born and where we both grew up. Well, he grew up in one part of Oklahoma, I grew up in another. Anyway, we went to the farm where Jim was raised for a very solemn purpose. We were…
I Had A Dream
I had a dream. Well, first of all, just having a dream is significant for me. I can count the number of dreams I have had since Michael died on one hand. As with most dreams, there was no significant sense of time or place. In my dream I was returning home, which actually wasn’t my home. What was disturbing was that someone had stolen our bed. At…