I used to believe in that phrase. After all, if you just tried hard enough, if you just had the right attitude, if you just pulled yourself up by your bootstraps …. your life would be better. Right? Well, this phrase worked for me until mid December of 2007.Then my life was shattered, along with my heart, and my life became “matter over mind”. …
healing for widowed
Release
I am a teapot (minus the short and stout)…or should I say, a tea kettle.There are moments in my day, week, or month where the “pressure”/emotions inside of me become so overwhelming that they have to find some outlet to release all that is about to combust inside of my heart.Since I am unequipped with a whistling spout, in most cases it is…
Musical Monday
Much of the music that spoke to me right after Phil’s death was important because the lyrics articulated feelings I was incapable of expressing. Even now, after writing countless words about my journey through the loss of my husband, there are times when nothing communicates my inner turmoil like the phrases penned by someone else. When I first…
Insert Soul Mate
After traveling the last 18 hours, I have arrived home! Ireland was amazing and lived up to all of my dreams and expectations (though I had set none). From Cork to the Wicklow mountains, I compiled a dictionaries worth of memories.With each new locale I’m blessed enough to see, I capture some of the best shots through the lens of my camera that…
growing up
In the first days after being widowed, I was much like a young child. Oblivious to the world around me. Completely in my own little realm – though not one of wonder but of grief and fear. My existence was confusing. I didn’t understand what had happened. I relied on others to care for me. To make sure I was fed, clothed, and essentially,…
some regrets
some of us were talking about madeline’s long fingers. someone suggested that she should be a piano player. i said, “just like her momma”and then i realized… i was in love with liz for over 12 years and i never saw her play the piano. and that made me sad. then i got to thinking about the other stuff we never did. we never skied…
I Can’t Make Up My Mind …. Part 2
Last week I wrote about my sons and the likeness each one has of Jim. I mentioned that I have let the boys go through Jim’s clothes. Well, I’ve decided that I can’t make up my mind about that, either. I want Jim’s clothes to do more than just sit in a closet. I think. I want the boys to be able to have something of their dad’s and to be able to…
Always Look on the Bright Side of Life…
So here I sit, 7 days til the anniversary. I am absolutely beyond swamped at work (could I have more meetings and more documents to review??) and overwhelmed with personal commitments as well – a funeral (no, they never stop, and they are always sad), two evening meetings, basketball, Halloween parties, homework, and that is just to get me to…
Ready or Not?
I loved being married. Knowing that I shared a commitment with my husband to face life together, come what may, was a daily comfort to me. I didn’t miss dating; I didn’t long for freedom; I didn’t feel limited; I didn’t fear slipping into complacency. Looking back, I even miss the hard work that was required to create a harmonious union. Phil and I…
My Other Car is a Porsche
You know those bumper stickers that say things like, “My Other Car is a Porsche?” The implication is that the driver isn’t quite satisfied with their real car and that they have a much nicer one parked at home. I can appreciate this sentiment.My “other car” is my other life—the one I was supposed to be living right now complete with a…
Not Feeling It
There are many days, weeks and months that the grief that was born after Jeff’s death has crippled me. Days that no matter what I do, the sadness and loss steal over me and infect every thought and movement with pain. Weeks where I can feel nothing but the ache that has accompanied this journey and months in which the sorrow manages to reek despite…
I Can’t Make Up My Mind …. Part 1
…. I really can’t. Not about everything, but by a couple of kind of big things, one of which I have no control over whatsoever: my sons and their similarities with their Dad.Son #1 is so much like Jim that it amuses, stuns and stops me cold sometimes. I find more humor in it than sadness, but there’s still the sadness. He has the same dry sense…