Along about the second year, definitely going into the third and then the fourth…I just wanted to scream at people. Not in anger, but in shredded grief and pain… Why can’t you just let me be sad? Why does it feel like I must defend myself against you? Why does it then feel like I have to defend my grief even to myself? Why does it feel like I…
Widowed Therapy
Through an Unthinkable Fire
Last Thursday, all of my closest friends flew in from around the country for our annual trip to see each other. Since 2012, when Drew died, we have been making it a point to come from far and wide to spend a weekend together celebrating his life and our friendships. We call it Drewfest, and this year was our sixth year. It was the first year having…
Waiting in the Wings
This past week was the 6th anniversary of his death. I wrote last week about this, and what would have been our 9th anniversary together the week before. I will always hate that these two dates are a week apart. It’ll always piss me off to have to have my anniversary of celebrating our love so closely linked to when he died. But it is what it is…
Twice as Long and Loving On
Yesterday would have been my 9th anniversary with my fiance. Instead, we got 3 years. Instead, it was my 6th anniversary without him, and a reminder that I’ve now been without him for twice as long as I was with him. I didn’t even think about those numbers leading up to this week… it wasn’t until the day hit that I realized it was twice as long.
What is Holy
The month of May looms large in my heart and soul, as I remember back to that May day in 2009 when Chuck and I began our Happily Homeless travels, after selling our house and belongings, and our last 4 years together as we adventured around the country…remembering that April night in 2013 when our adventures ended as he took his last breath and I…
PRESSURE
This year is the 10 year anniversary of Soaring Spirits International. This Sunday is the official anniversary day of when Michele founded the non-profit. July 13th weekend, I will be presenting once again, at Camp Widow San Diego. July 13th will be the 7 year anniversary of my husband Don’s sudden death. July 13th, my book about his…
Losing a Friend
So the book I have been writing about my husband’s death, and life in the aftermath, is finished. It is now in editing, and should be ready for publication for July 13th. One of the sections in the book is called “Words About Don”, where I asked a handful of his close friends and family to write up a few words/couple of paragraphs or so, about a…
Pretty Lucky
I’ve heard that when you feel you are struggling with your writing it is because you are writing what you think you should write instead of what you truly feel. I can’t find the actual quote right now (it was much more eloquent than that) but that idea has been on my mind for a while. Since I saw it really. I’ve wanted to write and share…
Book Anxiety
So, after about 3 and a half years or so of writing and not writing and then writing again, and then the last 6 months or so of REALLY doing a TON of writing and not being able to look at computer screens anymore because my eyes hurt so bad – I am finally finished writing my book. It is FINISHED!!!! I handed it over to my editor 2 days ago, and…
My Husband Died and All I Got Was This Lousy Book
In July of 2011, my husband died, and I died too. Well, that version of me died. About an hour after his death, after I had made the phone calls to immediate family and a few close friends – from a random bathroom inside the ER part of the hospital, sitting on the toilet after having just thrown up from shock – I sent my first Facebook status…
In a Frozen World
My fiance died in 2012. In the spring of 2014, I began creating a photographic series about my grief, called “Still, Life”… sharing weekly self portraits that captured my pain, hope, confusion, anger and everything else that comes along with grief. I worked on this series for about a year, creating 40 haunting, hopeful, honest images… with each…
A Mindful Conversation
It’s been far too long since I felt the sting of an icy wind hitting my face. Months have passed since I lazily stared into a campfire of my own creation, with nobody but my own self to discuss it with. I haven’t dunked into a mountain creek after a long march, and I haven’t been woken up by annoying crows, rather than an annoying alarm…