Hanging out a while back I was chatting with a female friend-of-a-friend having a great (non-romantic) time. Eventually, we decided we should become Facebook friends. I suggested she find my profile and send me a “friend request.” She typed and searched as I spelled out my name (‘C’, ‘H’… yes “Chris”. “Weaver” – ‘W’,…
chris weaver
Business of Change
Today marks 869 days since Maggie’s Angel Day. Being that specific implies more preoccupation than is truly representative of my mental state. But being that specific makes me think about how far I’ve come and how far I’ve still to go. (I’ll save you the math: 869 days is roughly 124 weeks, 29 months or just nearly 2 ½ years. From official…
Breaking the News
I find I’m still reflecting on my experiences from Widow Camp. In those few short days I feel like I moved forward leaps and bounds down the healing path simply by being surrounded by others who share similar past experiences. The friendships I made there still stand and the conversations haven’t stopped. The reward has been well beyond the…
Not Alone
There was a real chance that Maggie would have died that first night we were in the hospital back on January 6, 2007. Despite our dreams, our plans, our love and our forever-together commitment, I’d truly be alone. As she slept soundly in a cozy, drug-induced haze, I felt like it was me against all the evil in the world… and the evil was…
Heartbreak, Hot wings, and Hope
Here I am, one of nine men sitting on nine bar stools, all of us without wedding rings. The others look a little older than me but it’s an unfair comparison; in my mind’s eye I’m still 30, the age when I met my wife. But here we are, nonetheless, peers, or at least men of similar relationship status – lonely. Every guy on every stool is…
Like a Hurricane
It’s been 812 days since I last kissed my angel. After she was diagnosed, we were lucky to live life large for 850 days. Like so many other difficult things (dealing with chemo treatments, watching her deteriorate over time, holding her that day, her death, living without her), it is so hard to get my head around how much time has passed; it’s…
Winnie the Pooh on Grieving
“If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together… there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart… I’ll always be with you.”-Winnie the PoohAlways be with me….. I really hope so. But I know her and…
Empty Beds and Summer Blooms
When we first moved into this big, wonderful house, we toiled and planted together in our many gardens. We were building something long-lasting, rich, sensual and vibrant. The flowers in our garden were breathtaking. Our plants were exotic. Butterflies were abundant. Every clod of dirt became a colony of life. We loved every lizard, flower,…
I’m Failing
I’m failing. No, not with mourning and recovery. That, my psychologist reassures me, I’m doing quite well with. In fact, he tells me that I’m doing extraordinarily well – best he’s seen. (Read the next word in your best dripping sarcasm voice:) Yaaaay! I’m failing at getting back into life.I’m just stuck and I don’t know how to get…
My New View of Death
Duality of vision. At least that’s what I’m calling it. As of May 4th last year, my way of looking at physical things has changed. For example, driving into my garage every day I see Maggie’s catcher’s mask she used to wear while playing softball. It hangs just inside the garage door right where I park the car. When I see that mask, I…
Maggie’s Angel Day v2.0
Maggie and I loved to travel and we made a great travel team. One of our favorite activities was hangin’ with the locals in local restaurants and pubs. I was the shy one. She, however, met no one but friends. One evening, somewhere in Greece, Spain, Italy, Mexico, New Orleans or somewhere else, we were chatting it up with one of the locals.
Introducing Chris and Maggie
Like everyone else who shares the title “widower” or “widow”, I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t kick sleeping dogs or twist baby toes to make them cry. I can’t imagine what I did that pissed off the devil (or God) to get me to this place but here I am. Here you are. I’m not going anywhere so I might as well be polite and introduce us…