This Saturday, I will be 26 weeks along. The last time I was 26 weeks pregnant (to the day), my husband dropped dead.Oddly enough, for all the anxiety I had about becoming pregnant, it’s been relatively normal and hasn’t caused me too much grief. Until I hit the half way mark. Ever since, my brain audibly tells me with each passing Saturday, “only…
Widowed
Same Discussion ……
…… same passion. I had a discussion this past weekend that I’ve had several times before. It’s a discussion that I am so passionate about …… that it brings tears every single time it occurs. All it takes is four words. Four words that set me off quicker than most any other words can (unless they’re negative words about my children). The…
Distraction
A very wise woman (also a widow) once me that when things get really-rock-bottom-bad; find a distraction. A new distraction that doesn’t carry the weight of memories that include him. I do a range of things at 2am when the darkness creeps in. I read (always a solitary activity for me), or play endless games of solitaire and then pin things on…
Dark Shadow
Depression. It’s my dark shadow. I’ve been living with it since my late teens. Even so, it can still trick me. For the last few weeks I’ve been under its spell and up until today I didn’t realize it. Instead of seeing the depression as the REASON I feel as though everything is hopeless and life sucks, I have been thinking that I’m depressed BECAUSE…
Missing Out on Things
Lately I have been thinking a lot about where I have been, where I am going.. and how lucky I am. I can’t help but think about my husband. About how he didn’t realize how lucky he was. I know he had no idea how much he would be missing out on by choosing to leave this life.I don’t think he had the slightest idea of how much LIFE he…
Open
My life is much different from many of my loved ones. I find myself traveling 1/3 of the year. I happily sleep with two (furry) men each night I’m home. No one gets on my back for the dishes sitting in the sink a bit too long or the dirty clothes on the floor.I thoroughly enjoy my solitude (i.e. meditation, reading, playing fetch, watching…
Running
I never really liked running. Never really saw the point. For exercise? Sure, but I’d much rather play a sport or go swimming or do just about anything other than feel the pounding of my flattened and worn-out feet, screaming for mercy against the hot and unforgiving pavement. Or feel my knees hurting and buckling and cracking with each breath,…
Less than a decade, more than a lifetime.
It’s always been a hard reality for me to swallow that I never got a full decade with Jeremy. Something about that round number made me feel even more like I got robbed. I started dating Jeremy shortly after I turned 20. He died when I was 28 – I never got to celebrate turning 20 or 30 with him. Just inside a decade.A few weeks ago, Jeremy and I…
When One Door Closes ……
…… it sometimes slams right in your face. Some doors are like that. They suddenly slam shut with so much force that you’re knocked backwards. The door on my “before” life shut like that. Suddenly. Surprisingly. Furiously. Permanently. Other doors close very slowly. You can tell that they’re closing, but it’s such a slow process that you…
Why This is YOUR Fault
Like many of you, last week I read a facebook post by the fabulous Michele in which she confessed to being irritate with her dead husband (not her lovely, living one….) Went for a run this morning, and my legs were feeling heavy and slow. Phil is never far from my mind when I run (especially in August), and as I struggled with the miles I…
I Remember
I have plunged back into the cold, dark, hopeless place I felt buried in the first few weeks/months after Dave died. I’ve been struggling to eat, sleep, clean up after myself, and find comfort in anything. Everything feels like sandpaper against raw nerve endings. I can’t stand to be alone. I need help. I’ve reached out. I’ve especially sought out…
Not Enough
Since my husband’s suicide in July 2010, I have struggled with feeling likeI was not enough. I was not enough to keep my husband alive. I have felt that if I was a better friend, a better wife, a better support system, my husband would still be alive.Realizing that sometimes love is NOT enough.. is devastating. What happened to all…