Being a widow is a lot of things. Scary. Sad. Lonely. Guilt-ridden. But an unexpected side effect of the loss of my spouse is the humor and hilarity. Maybe I was funny person before. Maybe it has been in me all along. But after spending time again this year at Camp Widow, my cheeks hurt from laughing….and I didn’t spend the time giggling at…
jackie chandler
those in the know
Today I begin my journey to the Soaring Spirit’s Loss Foundation’s Camp Widow. I feel as if I am running to the arms of dear friends…..although some of these people I have never met.I will spend my time with a couple of hundred people who know what widowhood is. Really know. Not an abstract idea that is hard to fully wrap your mind around until…
are you lonesome tonight….
I’m not dating. I have gone on a few….dates. But it never felt right. But neither does this loneliness. I don’t want to go through the hassle of meeting, dating, getting to know the other person’s “issues”, introducing this person to family and friends, getting giddy when they come around, having our first argument, finding out that they have an…
the perfect father
Lately, Liv and I have been struggling. We have been fighting arguing about everything from whether she should brush her extremely knot-filled hair before departing for the day to whether older sisters are ‘allowed’ to speak to their younger brothers in a hatred filled voice to whether it is her job to clean up her mess. She claims that my…
….by the way
I am seeing all sorts of old and familiar faces since we moved back to my hometown. It’s been great getting reacquainted with now-grown children of my youth. We discuss how the town has changed. That the one stop light in town is no longer the one stop light in town. Gossip about the nastiest boy in our class has changed and where he is now.I find…
Does widowhood define me?
As a widow, how many times have you said, “when/since/because _____ died”? Even after two years, three months and six days, I regularly use this phrase. Does widowhood define me this much or is it that the loss of my husband has been so life-altered, self-forming, world-shifting to me that I can attribute most of the occurrences in my present life…
apples and oranges
Although apples and oranges are both fruit, they taste, smell and feel different. They are both round. They are both sweet. But one is crispy and succulent and the other is juicy and zesty. Some similarities but you would never mistake one for the other. When attempting to understand another person’s circumstance we often seek out seemingly similar…
the impending father’s day
It’s actually 3:28 a.m. as I write this. Unpacking from our move and working at the clinic have kept me so busy that I haven’t spent any amount of time ruminating about what thought of loss has most taken up my mind this week. But as I’ve driven to work, opened boxes of photo albums and placed Jeff’s dresser in the corner of the room, the thought…
getting my voice
We’ve moved. Our stuff is in the new house…..but the house isn’t finished. The shower doesn’t work and two of the rooms remain incomplete. Although the garbage and previous tenant’s belongings have finally been removed, we haven’t been able to unpack our stuff and claim the house as ours. We have been staying with friends until it is…
moving day
In times of stress and unease, I occasionally look for quotes to use as a mantra to repeat when necessary. So tomorrow as we move from the house that we shared with my beloved best friend/husband/father of our little ones, I will be repeating yet another appropriate phrase in the hopes of easing the fear, sadness and sense of loss that this change…
the myth of the broken heart
I don’t follow a lot of celebrity news. In fact, the older I get the more I have no idea who these people are who grace the pages of the tabloids at the grocery check-out counter. Our society’s idolatry of these ‘super-humans’ baffles me and highlights the blatant differences between ‘us’ and ‘them’.Recently however, the death of an actress whom I…
come again
I have gone out of my way to avoid the parking lot of our doctor’s office for two years and two months. I’d park on the other side of the building and walk the long way to get to my appointment. As I approached the glass doors to the dreaded parking from the opposite entrance I’d avoid looking at one specific tree. This tree marked the spot where…