Hi honey, Six years ago today you headed out the door for what would be your final bike ride. You checked the tires on your bike, oiled the chain, filled two water bottles, kissed me good-bye, left, came back for some unidentified thing (I still wonder what brought you back, and if those additional moments cost you your life), and then kissed me…
michele neff hernandez
Hope Personified
The people in this photo have experienced despair. These smiling faces have cried buckets (okay maybe an ocean) of tears because someone they love is not coming home, ever. Some of us were called to an emergency room or opened the door to a uniformed officer who told us the news that would change our lives; while others sat by a bedside day after…
Healing Hurts Sometmes
When a friend is sick you hope they will get well soon. If you know someone who has cancer, you might pray fervently for them to be cured. After you’ve had surgery, a friend might call to tell you they hope you will heal quickly, but what about when someone dies. What do we wish then? After Phil’s death I feared getting better. I didn’t want to get…
Home is
Home is where you hang your heart, not only your hat. When Phil died, the four walls of my home became both a refuge and a prison. I hated going out; I hated staying in. The outside world was too bright. I felt blinded by other people’s lightness, innocent happiness, and especially by their apparent disregard for the fact that the world had…
My Other Ring
About four months after Phil’s death, I returned to my nail salon for the first time since being widowed. As I sat in the chair trying to keep it together while idle chatter swirled around me, my manicurist looked up and asked if I was going to take off my rings. Absently I handed them to her (my engagement ring, my wedding ring, and Phil’s wedding…
Last Person Standing
A week ago I showed up for a meeting in a different state, that was planned over a month before, to find that the person who was in charge of the agenda was missing. The reason for her absence was that she just found out her best friend has cancer, and her dear friend’s diagnosis was delivered to her around the first anniversary of the death of her…
A Personal Look at Death and Resurrection
Resurrection is the theme of the day for Christians everywhere. But whether this day is a religious celebration for you, or a bunny hop, or just another Sunday…those of us who grieve have a unique knowledge of the experience of death and resurrection. Because when our loved one died, we did too. The person who did not know what living in a…
My Death Wish
Filling in for Jackie today with a post I wrote almost four years ago. Even today, I can clearly remember the feeling of wanting to be dead. It would have been terrifying if I were capable of feeling anything besides empty, but in that moment all I wanted was to be with Phil. Of all the words I have written over the past 5.8 months the ones I share…
How Did You Two Meet?
Recently I spent eight days with one of my favorite people in the world. You all know her as our Tuesday blogger, I call her tacalla. You’ve heard one or the other of us use that term here on the blog (tacalla is the Spanish word for two things that share the same name), as a way of explaining our shared Michel/lleness. Just imagine for a minute…
That Other Shoe
Pictures of me in my current state of happiness make me nervous. I look at this photo with a sense of wonder at the fact that my smile looks genuine. The empty look that has shadowed my features for years appears to have faded. I am tempted to compare this photo to one of my “before” photos to see if I can tell the difference between these versions…
A Kind of Retirement
I love the idea that there is a time, and a season, for all things, but change has always been hard for me. I like sameness, actually I used to thrive in the familiar. But the transformation that has happened in my life since Phil’s death has taught me to accept my uneasiness regarding change as par for my particular course knowing that some of…
The Spot
Phil was on his way to this trail head on the day he died. He left home around five thirty on a summer evening in August, and I got a phone call from a witness of the accident that took his life thirty minutes later. Somehow that trip to get to my husband’s side is burned into my memory in a way that other moments from that time are not.Five years…