About 2 years ago, during a long and emotional session with Caitlin, my grief-therapist, she looked at me very seriously and she said: “There is going to be a day when you no longer need to come and see me anymore. It will be gradual. Maybe you’ll only come every other week for awhile. Maybe skip some weeks. And then, finally, you just won’t need…
Widowed Suddenly
The Grim Reaper Repercussions
This past week or so I have been feeling very melancholy. This grief thing is a very difficult business. Will we ever get the hang of it? Will it forever be a process we can never escape? Will we always be struggling to slog our way through? The ever-changing game of it all is simply, some days, exhausting. I often feel as if death will be…
To Everything, There is a Season
Spring has sprung in Northern England, and everywhere life is blooming. Magnolia trees burst with pink and white flowers, their sweet scent wafting along with the evening winds. Baby lambs, their legs still wobbly, hover near their mothers’ stomachs, with tender young faces that seem to be smiling. Birdsong fills the air, the cacophony so loud at…
Two Versions of Love
I have been thinking a lot lately about something Michele Neff Hernandez, our editor, said in a workshop over a year ago about finding new love. Back then, I was nowhere near wanting new love. But I knew someday I would want it. So I attended this workshop at Camp Widow in Tampa, and listened to what she had to say. The thing I remember most is her…
Claiming Your Name
I already know the answer to this question, but I will ask it anyway. Do you, dear widowed friends or surviving person of anyone you loved that died, have certain specific things that still make you feel guilty? Things that you wish you had done differently? Things that maybe you regret, in the wake of the loss of the person you love? Yes. Of…
The Story
I met a new friend the other day and in the course of conversation The Story came out. You know the one. The Story. The one about how I was married and then wasn’t married. What happened, how it happened, what’s happened since then, what happened before then. Early on in my widowhood The Story was so deeply painful that I basically hid…
By The Sea, On My Own
It is a glorious spring day on the northern coast of England, and I am seated on a bench overlooking the sea, in a village called Robin Hood’s Bay. It is an ancient settlement, with remains found that date back 3000 years, and first mentioned by a topographer of Henry the VIII in 1536.Yesterday I walked to this village from Whitby, where I am…
Highs and Lows
Writing this up a bit late today. It’s 10 a.m. on Friday morning, east coast time, and this blog is supposed to be submitted by midnight California / Pacific time – so, 3 a.m. last night. But sometimes by the time Thursday evening rolls around, I am so damn exhausted both emotionally and physically from going to work, going to the gym (something…
A Little Moment of Now
Mike always did enjoy the little things, when we were together. I think – no, I know – in days past he looked for the bigger thrills, but by the time he got to me, he had gotten to a point of really appreciating the simple pleasures of life. I am glad of that, and these days it continues to resonate for me. One of them, of course, was a meal out…
Ashes to Ashes
Saturday, I carried the remnants of my husband’s body from our bedroom to the summit of Monks Road, in Glossop, the spot he had chosen as his final resting place. It was one of the hardest things I have had to do, in this 10 month journey since his death. His family and I scheduled this date months ago. Even then, I was reluctant to consider…
Spouse: Blank
Who would ever think that something as boring and mundane as reading your tax return would send you into fits of sobbing, post-loss? A tax return? Really? It’s not like I was even the one doing my taxes. Luckily, “I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy” (as Sal would say on “Breaking Bad”), who does my tax return for me. Actually, I am making…
Matters of Interpretation
It’s been a busy week, and the highlight was a visit with my friend Margaret who flew in for a nice long weekend from her home in the Bay area. Her husband Dave, who was healthy and fit, died of a sudden, massive stroke at age 50 three months after Mike died, and she and I were put together by mutual friends and family who saw us both falling apart…