Hi readers! Mike had some things come up and wasn’t able to post today, so I’m dropping in to take his place! He will be back with a new post next Tuesday! It isn’t so often that I meet people who have been through as much darkness as I have. Although I know there are plenty of people who have, it’s not exactly like there are clubs for…
Widowed
Your Story is Worth Telling
If there’s something powerful about telling your own stories, there is something equally profound in hearing someone else tell your story to others. For centuries, we have been telling stories. Well before we could write, the most important and valuable knowledge we had as humans was passed down through stories and spoken word. And although our…
The Blank Page
Every writer experiences it. Staring at the blank page. Sometimes no words come at all, and sometimes, there are so many words we’re not sure which ones to put down. Grief is kind of like that. Sometimes we sit in blank stupefaction while the horror of our new reality without our spouses showers down around us. Other times we are inundated with so…
Cake and Beer
In honor of Sarah’s late-fiance’s birthday, I’ve decided to write him a letter, man to man. It’s something I haven’t done in awhile, and today, of all days, seems most appropriate. Hey man, So, today’s your birthday. It’s kinda hard to believe you would have been only 33 years old. You had way too much left to do. Hell,…
Grown Up Problems
Mike was never good at dealing with grown up problems. He truly did have a childlike spirit – that was sometimes fun, and sometimes frustrating. When it came to taxes, phone calls, fixing things, filling out forms, and bigger worries, he was often useless. I did most of all that. And when he died…well, widowed people understand all the…
Flipping the Switch
Way back when I started writing here for Soaring Spirits, I had posited a statement that when “my switch flips from suffering to determination, it is simply not possible to feel more powerful”. At the time, that was related precisely to losing Megan, and wading through the grief until I finally got up off of the couch, wiped the snot off of…
Coffee Rituals and the Unknown
Early this morning, I woke up to the bed being empty next to me. It’s an ordinary Saturday, and I can hear Mike downstairs, tinkering around, packing up for a short backpacking trip. Eventually, I hear the stairs creak as he comes back up to the bedroom kiss me goodbye. These moments are always sensitive for me, since Drew left on a trip and never…
Being Here Now
The day before this posts is my birthday. I am now 49. Mike was 45 when we met; I was 31. It’s hard to imagine I am that old now, and I spend a lot of time thinking back to Mike at my age. And I remember all the birthdays we spent together…I have kept all of the cards we gave each other. We always did something special, but he made me feel…
Love and Magic…Does it Still Exist?
“Sometimes I feel like there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean….I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still, sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing…I dream of a Love that even…
“Baby” Steps
Megan’s younger brother will be having a little boy sometime around late July, right around her birthday. He’s getting married in October, just after my birthday. Shelby is ten now, getting her straight A’s and growing like a weed. This past sunday, Sarah, Shelby and I attended a baby shower for two friends that were originally close to…
Mixed Emotions
After two and a half months in Virginia helping my family through a medical crisis, I am finally back in Kona for a few final months. Kona, Hawaii, where I moved with my late husband in 2001. This magical, special and most beautiful place where we made so many memories.Mike is here. His spirit will always be here, to me, even as I take a part of…
Words as Weapons
It’s no secret lately that I share my outlooks, experiences, and emotions with ruthless integrity, perhaps bordering upon over-sharing that information. Private anecdotes become public, once a week, as I write here. The quiet grumbles or “bad moods” that friends and family may see me in become soap-box seminars when it is in digital form…