January is when Megan was first diagnosed with chronic organ transplant rejection. February is Shelby’s birthday. May is Mother’s Day, June is when she was admitted to the hospital, never to come home again, July is her birthday, August is our anniversary, September is when the next year of school starts for Shelby, October is my birthday,…
memories
It’s a Real Thing. Camp Crash~
Holy shit, is it a real thing. Camp Crash. Michele, thankfully, speaks about it each year, prior to Sunday morning breakfast. Fair warning of gales ahead, campers. Brace yourselves.I first attended Camp Widow in 2015. Chuck had been dead for 2 years at that point. I didn’t know a soul there. I hadn’t connected with any widowed groups on fb. I was…
When Their Truth Hits
I’ve had very few visitors since Tin passed away. I don’t know if the reason is avoidance, being unsure of how I’ll be with guests or just that life goes on and we become too busy for the little things. Approaching the first anniversary of Tin’s passing, as the warmer month’s and spring break approaches, I’m starting to get the calls…
Me and the Universe~
I met Christina Rasmussen, from Second Firsts, early in my widowhood, on her first book tour. She was in Boston and I was in NH, so I drove to the book store holding the event, and heard her speak for the first time. It didn’t change the emotions of my widowhood, but her words, her philosophy about life after loss touched me deeply. It was my…
Quality Time
You may have noticed that last Tuesday, there was no post from me. In short, we had a major power outage at my work, starting the Sunday prior, and being the only IT person, it fell to me keep the business running. I left home Sunday evening, towards the office, and I was there until 3 A.M. or so. Then home for a few hours, then back to the…
Grief. Secondarily~
The easy affection between us. The teasing. The flirtatious wink across the room from him to me. The sensation of electricity skimming across my skin when he entered a room where I was, even before I saw him.The passion. Holding hands. The sweet kisses that lasted for at least 30 seconds because I’d read a book about relationships early on in our…
Scared to Remain, Scared to Change
I have always hated change. Especially when something would change drastically or quickly, and I didnt have much choice in the matter. Like that time when I was about 7 years old and we went on a class field trip to a Maple Farm, and I somehow ended up with a gigantic ball of maple syrup in my long, curly, gorgeous hair. And then my dad, for…
Whispers of Memory~
Whispers of memory In the halls of Time Drift through me Like the clouds of mist That suddenly appeared around us as we wandered the soft ground of Muir Woods so many years ago. Memories that begin, now, with our final times together. Me, huddled in the courtyard gardens of hospice rocking to and fro on my knees, arms hugging my…
Favorite Parent
There was always a bit of competition between Megan and I as to who could be the “favorite” parent. It was playful, obviously, but between the two of us, we were always trying to get the “better” birthday present for Shelby, or take her to the more memorable thing to do, or tell the funniest joke. Whomever could make Shelby laugh harder…
Over the Edge. Maybe~
5 years and 9 months into this life without Chuck, I may have, Possibly Gone over the edge. It’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. Our world that is so critical and judgemental of how we grieve, Those who tend to be uncomfortable with others who refuse to play the game of life their understood way… Well, they might think I’ve gone over the edge.
Mom’s Pajamas
Megan spent a lot of time in her pajamas. It kind of came with the territory, spending so much time in the hospital. When she was home, she often wasn’t nearly at 100%, so being in her pajamas was comfortable, warm, and easy. If there was no need to been seen in public, she figured, why get all dressed up and ready? Pajamas made sense. She…
A Hallmark Heartbreak Kind of Holiday
My birthday was hard. Thanksgiving was hard. Christmas and New Years were both hard. Yet it is the “Hallmark Holiday” that seems to burn more than build the wave of sadness.Every Valentine’s Day growing up, I wrote out cards and put them in classmates construction paper mailboxes but only for the girls. Life is different now and kids can like…