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.
Widowed Signs from Loved One
Messages from Mike
There seems to come a time in life for those of us who do not grow up with formal religion – and perhaps it’s triggered by loss and hardship, perhaps by age – where we search for meaning in losses and in life, and messages or clues that there might be something before and after […]
Safe
I miss him all the time, but right now with all the uncertainty in the world I feel even more alone because of his absence. The truth is, Mike would have loved being quarantined with me. And, I would have liked it too. Like always, we would have made the best of it together. The other day, as I wandered aimlessly through the grocery store, I wished Mike was there with me. He’d have made me laugh. He’d even have made shopping during the Coronavirus “fun” because he’d be saying all sorts of goofy things to me as we walked through the dishevelled aisles.
Picking at Grief Scabs
February is weird. Always slightly off. As a kid, I found it weird that there were only 28 days in the month. Then 29 days just as we were getting used to the 28 day pattern. I wondered in awe at the brilliance of the scientists from so long ago who figured out that we […]
Someone else’s memories *sigh*
Just an ordinary widowed day. Get up, brush my teeth, look at the dishes and laundry I didn’t have time to do, *sigh*, take the dog out – Pretty standard these days. Roan and I start our walk grabbing a bag because we pick up after ourselves. Well actually I clean up after us. Just me. No one to help. *sigh*. We walk the same way every morning…
Hummingbirds
In most other languages, the onomatopoeia that we use to describe these birds does not exist. We call them hummingbirds because, like flip flops and ping pong, it describes the noise made rather than the name of the thing itself. The word most other languages use instead is “Colibri”. This is significant for two reasons. One, I find the word more…
Divine Dimes
I have been more open-minded and openhearted to try and see signs from Tin. Some say that it is just circumstance but it helps me. It is really interesting how we have preset thoughts about certain things and “superstitions”. For my whole life I always heard that if you find a penny than it is a penny from Heaven -A small shiny token to tell…
Long lost Pineapple Shorts
I’m laying in bed and I’m only 4 days away from heading to Hawaii. I post on Facebook about the trip. In the post I ask who am I going to see there? Within moments of me posting, I hear something slide and fall in the bedroom closet. Roan (my dog) gets off the bed and goes to the closet, looks at me, walks in and out and walks over to me. He…
I Choose to Believe
A week ago I was given an opportunity at a big event to share with my essential oil community about inclusion, community and growth. It amazes me what has come into my life in the past year. Part of my oil journey is the loss of Tin. I share about him in every speech I give. I share about Soaring Spirits and I share about the widowed Facebook…
Caretaker
I’ve always felt that, 5 years after Megan’s death, I wouldn’t feel like a widow anymore. Not counting those first few months, when I swore up and down that my life was over and that I would never, ever move forward or be able to love again, I consider myself very realistic. I have a stable career. Shelby is and always has been…
The Weight of a Living Legacy
Shortly after losing Tin I was honored being asked to write in this space. I quickly felt the weight of grief ease as the words hit the paper. An amazing thing began to happen, others started to respond to my writing that they felt connected again and that lifted my grief a bit more. As I continued moving forward, I had started to use essential…
Broken Dreams
I don’t often dream. Not the metaphorical “dream” or anything like that, just regular old dreams when I’m sleeping. They just don’t happen. Even when they do, they seemingly are just five seconds of me sitting in my living room or something. There isn’t anything crazy happening or odd traits like being able to fly. It’s plainly…