This post marks my one-year anniversary as a writer for the Widow’s Voice. 52 weeks of sharing my journey with fellow widowed people and our support networks that follow this blog.

There are weeks I start to write this and I’m not sure what direction it’ll go. Other times, I know exactly what has been hard and I’m itching to share. Sometimes I worry what I share will hurt my support network. It’s hard for those who love us to watch us grieve and I’m doing so on a public platform. However, I know there is someone else out there experiencing a similar hurt. While what I write can’t take away anyone’s pain, but I do hope my words help someone out there feel less alone.

I often find myself curled on the couch to write to you each week. Keyboard poised. Creamer with a splash of coffee. Kleenex at the ready. I’ll look back at my photos and calendar from the previous week, looking for inspiration and reminders of what I felt and experienced. What pours out from that is what you get.

I just opened my photos and remembered we struggled hard core to open a jar of pickles this week. We all tried, and I got some hilarious pictures of the younger two boys trying to open it. Thankfully, we did this laughing, but they love to remind me about the time I yelled at the pickle jar right after Tony died. Like, 100% lost my cool and screamed from my guts at a jar of pickles for not opening. I highly recommend yelling at pickles. They don’t get their feelings hurt.

Whenever I had Tony open a jar of pickles for me, he always said – ‘See, you do need me!’ Even opening pickles can remind you of your person.

I continue to work to live the mantra I shared in my very first post. Be Brave. Stay Strong. Love Hard. Even if I’m not always strong enough to pop the pickle lid!

Thanks for reading week after week.