These are the faces of a few of the women who celebrated 40 with me in Vegas… interestingly enough, all of them had read last week’s blog and were still brave enough to go! Thanks guys! I’m not usually as black as last week, and I think I stirred up a few worries with that post. It is what it is, and most of the people in my life get it, or at…
hope for widowed
Awkward
When I meet people for the first time I feel like I am keeping a secret from them. Looking at me, they would never guess what I am hiding. I can carry on an intelligent and interesting conversation without revealing the circumstance of which my new acquaintance is unaware. Depending on who they are I may even artfully dodge inquiries that would…
Once In a Lifetime
Michael and I always wanted to see the world with each other. We had it all planned out. After he and I graduated, we would go to Europe and start our travels. From Greece to tropical terrains, we’d see it all (leaving a few places for after retirement) and then head back and start our family.Fast forward to 2007 and our “plans” fell to the…
Put on a Happy Face (Part 1,439)
Yes, here we are once again…trying to put on a happy face. Tomorrow is my 40th birthday, and although I could care less about the fact of “40”, the birthday itself is hard. Not the 40 part, just the birthday. Four years ago I spent my birthday in the emergency room at MD Anderson, then in the outpatient surgery center, and as a celebration of the…
Still Helpless
Michelle and I have been doing this widow thing side by side for almost four years. When we met we were both newly widowed, and shell shocked. Each of us watched our dreams for the future unceremoniously demolished as one minute passed into the next. Thrown into a whirlwind of grief we discovered each other in the eye of the storm.For the first…
Refresh
There are moments where I feel as if I am on an idle screen. It’s a screen that am totally aware of what it looks like when it is fully loaded. It’s full of memories, strength, perseverance, and a positive outlook that is all fueled off the amazing love I have been given. Yet, with this new journey before me, there are times when the page doesn’t…
moving on, healing and getting over it
I’m sure that as widows, we have all heard these words in some form or other. “You’ll get over it one day.” “You’re young. You’ll move on.” “Time heals all wounds.” And the like. I remember the first time some well-meaning, naive person attempted to instill these words of ‘wisdom’ upon me. I think I wanted to drop them.The truth is that these silly…
Perspective and Purpose
These are two words whose meanings have changed for me since Phil’s death. Perspective used to be a word I threw around when I wanted someone else to view a certain topic or situation in a different light. Looking back, I doubt that I worried too much about how I viewed the world around me. Things in my life were pretty black and white, and I liked…
A Lighter Shade of Blue ….
I, like Michelle, have not thought a lot about my future. It seems to be a very fuzzy grey fog out there somewhere (but hey, it used to be an inky black fog so here’s to the color getting lighter!). But recently, I have caught myself thinking about it. Even making a plan or two. And then I’ll realize what I’m doing and stop ….. and be amazed.The…
Lordy look who’s 40….
Next week is my 40th, hard to believe really. Forty has an odd significance for me. I met my husband when I was 16. When he proposed to me at 22 (we reunited after a couple of years of not seeing each other in college), I remember him telling me I was beautiful….BUT….. Beautiful but what?? “Beautiful”, he said, “but I know you’ll be stunning…
Another Musical Monday
Okay, consider yourself warned about the potential for tears when reading my musical Monday posts. Teary eyed smiles are a good thing, right? Today’s song was written, and performed, by a good friend of mine, and has been the background for a few intense moments for me ;)Kimberly Roads-Schlapman was living the dream of an aspiring artist in the…
renovated reactions
On the day our daughter, Liv, first started preschool, my husband, Jeff, and I dropped her off together. We helped her off with her coat. We put her shoes on the mat. Then, we stared expectantly at her wondering (possibly hoping) if she would start to cry and demand that we stay. She didn’t. In fact, Liv told us with thirteen year old form, “You…