I’m filling in for Kelley Lynn today, she will be back next week! This post was written about four years after Phil died. It’s amazing how the written words mean the same thing literally, but six years later their figurative meaning has shifted yet again.Over the past four years grief and I have reluctantly become friends. Grief is not the kind of…
michele neff hernandez
The Flip Side of the Coin
As you all know, Cassie felt that it was time for her to share her writing spot with another widowed writer. I want to begin this post by thanking Cassie for her years of dedication to Widow’s Voice. She has changed so many lives on Monday after Monday after Monday…mine included. Thank you so much for sharing your heart with us Cassie! Also, we…
A Powerful Irony
Dearest Pepe, This week you’ve been on my heart minute to minute as the anniversary of our final kiss has loomed large. Flashes of the last week we shared as husband and wife have been spontaneously popping into my head with surprising clarity. There is no rhyme or reason to these recollections, and the bittersweetness of memory has both…
An Anchor in a Rough Sea
Widow’s Voice is a unique blog. Our writers write about widowed life as it is being lived. Which means that whenever each of our courageous authors sit down to write a post they don’t have the answers to the questions they pose; they don’t know how what the next twist in their own story will be, and after baring their souls with each post, they…
Perspective, an Amazing Gift
Last week I called Veronica and offered to write her post this week…seeing as it is Thanksgiving and she was going to have just given birth…I thought she *may* be a bit busy! (She, and her big loving family, welcomed a baby boy on Monday. Bayor Matthias weighed in at 9lb 15oz, he measured 20 inches long…and he is absolutely gorgeous!)…
Fear Didn’t Win
Yesterday we hosted the fourth annual Share the Road Ride. This is the only Soaring Spirits event that is dedicated to my Phil in any obvious way. Banners, flyers, t-shirts all bear his name. Friends from all areas of our shared lives come together, volunteers donate their time to support our Share the Road message, and Phil’s love for a good, long…
Phil Day
Today is the eighth anniversary of my Phil’s death. Taryn has graciously shared her blog day with me, so that I can post the annual letter I write to Phil on this day. Thank you, my friend.Dear Honey, Eight years have come and gone since you last laughed out loud at a joke that only you thought was funny. Eight years have passed since I last held…
My Best Friend Got Married
Michele is filling in for Michelle D. today…who is currently lounging in St. John….My best friend, and fellow widow, is now married.The readers here have a unique view of this new marriage, because the majority of us have outlived a spouse. We KNOW how it feels to be “parted” from our loved one by death. I’d wager that many of us said the word…
Aging Gratefully
Today is my birthday. I am 42 years old, three years older than Phil was when he died six years ago (crazy to think he would be 46 right now!). My first birthday without him I remember wishing time could just stand still. I didn’t want to age without him;I didn’t want to celebrate being alive with birthday songs and presents; and I didn’t want to…
Speaking to the Ghost of Christmas Past
The day Phil died, my world was irrevocably changed. No amount of crying, wishing, or begging could switch my new reality back to the reality of what seems like only moments ago. The first Christmas without him, I sat on the coach alone watching the kids open gifts that only I chose, purchased, wrapped, and stowed under the tree…barely able to…
A Note from Our Editor
Thank you all for your comments, suggestions, and kind remarks regarding last week’s posts. What I find equal parts amazing and challenging about leading this blog effort is attempting to meet the multitude of needs of our readers; allowing for the variety of opinions expressed regularly; and at the same time working to offer something valuable at…
I’m Okay
Six years ago my husband died in a tragic accident (is there any other kind really?). I woke up the next morning, and felt certain that I had been dreaming. With my eyes closed, I slid my hand across the bed to Phil’s side, and felt the cold sheets where his warm body used to lie. I wasn’t dreaming. The pain of his absence was searing. There were…