Main image by Patty Brito on Unsplash This is my 100th post for Soaring Spirits. Which sounds more monumental than the 104th, due in a few weeks, which will mean that I have been writing here for two years. I know I have not missed one Tuesday. Discipline is good. Habits are good. Who would […]
Widowed Parenting
June 12th
June 12 is the date on which Lee and I got married. This year, as June 12 approached, I felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought that June 12 is our anniversary since Lee would not be here with me to celebrate it. Without her, I had no cause to celebrate June 12. With these […]
Breaking Bad
Main image by Denis Oliveira on Unsplash Anyone who reads these blogposts and/or asks me how I am doing and waits for the pause while I run my eyes over their face, their ears over their voice, my brain’s interpretation system over their written words to assess for “checking in” or “real interest”, (and assuming […]
Shattered Christmases
Weird shit happens at this time of year. Weird shit gets said at this time of year too. It feels like it is just a stream of obscene extremes. So many types of polarities and tensions, to hold and somehow absorb. To try not to get too upset about. Festive lights against dark, black-out-curfewed streets. […]
On Love and Risk
Main image from the LA Times, July 2020 Remember when, back in the 1980s, just as we were getting sexually active (if you’re my age), and AIDS hit….? There were all those adverts, in the UK at least, on billboards, in the press, perhaps even on TV – (no social media back then), of a […]
Sliced and Diced and Cored
Main Photo by Nikolai Chernichenko on Unsplash I have written quite a bit about my challenging relationship with Death Admin. That I despise it. That it’s painful. That it takes too much time and energy and money. That it is prone to make me cry bitter, angry and hurting tears. And that most of all, […]
731 Days
Two years ago today, the light of my life went out. It was the day that Suzanne left this earthly realm and became universal energy. Today is the second anniversary of her death and at this very moment, I’m hurting. A lot.
39 and Counting
Mike and Sarah share Sunday posts, as they are two widows who are in a new relationship together. Today’s post is from Mike: Hey Babe, I’m writing this to you a few day’s belated. It’s been 6 years now since the last time Shelby or I was able to say “Happy Birthday” to your […]
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.
Mothers’ Day
This is the sixth Mother’s day since Megan’s death. Shelby is now starting to actually outgrow her mother’s shoes, and she’s almost as tall at 13 as Megan was at 33. She looks like her. A real “bean pole” right now. At this age, she’s more concerned about video games, reading, riding her bike, and texting her friends than anything else. From the outside looking in, it’s almost as-if she’s forgotten about her mother.
Yard Work in Progress
This blog features my tantrum against his death, and that’s okay because life isn’t always wonderful. Sometimes it’s cruddy and messy. Sometimes life is a work in progress. And, sometimes, big lessons are learned while you roll up your sleeves and get dirty doing something very ordinary like yard work. This is what happened today.
Grief and yard work are both labour intensive and each thing demands your attention at various times. On Sunday, I gave both the yard and my grief the time they demanded and I’m better for it.