My car is dead. Mike and I bought our Subaru in 2005 anticipating the arrival of his girls on the island; at the time we had only his pickup truck – which I still have – so we needed more of a family car. It’s funny how cars hold such a sentimental value. I’ve been asked several times if I’d sell his truck: NO WAY. It’s old, dirty and…
Widowed Suddenly
Fellow Grief Travellers
I learned the other day that my oldest brother and his wife are coming to visit, in November. They are going to Ireland, first, with their church, and then coming to spend a few days with me. It is the first time that a family member (besides my son) has come to see me, here in England, since I moved here 6 years ago. I am touched that he would…
Straddling Two Worlds
I feel as if I’m living life with each foot in a different world. One is still firmly planted in the life I shared with Mike. The imprint, not just of Mike himself, but of the life we had together, the World of Mike and Steph, is always there. I never stop wondering what we would be doing now were he still alive…I never stop referring to him,…
Wrong Colours, Wrong Seasons
Last week, the blooming heather in the hills called to me, and I set my feet upon the path to get to it. Around me there was the nutty smell of new mown hay, waiting to be bundled, the sun’s rays filtered through soft layers of cloud, and the vibrant oranges, purples, and reds of autumn’s last flowers in bloom. I watched silently as a rabbit…
Embracing the Silence
As I write this blog post, I am preparing for a 10 day, silent retreat at a women’s Buddhist retreat centre a few hours south of my home. I will be offline and encouraged to set aside all reading and writing devices for the entire retreat. The thought of this, I must admit, is a bit terrifying. I am well acquainted with being on my own and not…
What A Man Is
I am a strong and fiercely independent woman. I always have been. When I was 18 years old, in 1990, I left my comfy small town of Groton, Massachusetts, to attend college and live in NYC. I wanted to be a performer, actor, comedian, writer, or anything that got me out of that boring and predictable suburban life. I wanted more. So I went out on my…
Back When My Heart Was Pure
In the beginning, in the first edges of my grief, my heart felt like an open wound, and in the midst of the pain and shock of those first few days and months after the death of my husband, there was little I could do to close it. My heart was open to the world. I didn’t have the energy or the wherewithal to shut it down, to protect it, to…
Walking the Path Where the Ghost Cows Live
It is the middle of August, and it feels as if the warmth of summer has left us, though we never really had a summer, here in England, this year. Already the air is ripe with the smell of harvest: the spiky, purple thistle flowers have morphed into white milk pods, their silky seeds floating into the sky with the slightest hint of wind, the sloping…
Words Like Cries
It is a Saturday, mid-morning, and I am driving the Snake Pass, a beautiful, winding road from Glossop to Sheffield, overlooking vistas of patchwork fields and hills painted with purple heather in early bloom. It is one of the few sunny summer days we have had, in Northern England, this year, and part of me wonders why I am going to spend it…
Widows Walk
I am fortunate to have many beautiful family and friends in my life. Today, though, I feel moved to express just how important all my widowed friends are to me. I know I would not be able to walk through my own life now without them. The day Mike died, as we were making all those terrible phone calls, and just after that word “widow” had…
Rootless
This week, I have found myself questioning what I am doing here, in England, several thousand miles from the country of my birth. I came to the UK in 2009, on my own, to work in Social Work, and I met Stan a year and a half after I moved to London. I was working in a difficult, stressful job in south London, when we met, and had considered…
Triggered
The other day I went into Sports Authority looking for something – it’s not a store I need to go to very often but it was one of Mike’s favorites. He was so excited when we heard a big sports store was coming to our little island town all those years ago. As I was walking around I was hit with a flood of memories of being in there with him. I…