I’ve been thinking about what to blog about for two days now. And I haven’t been able to come with anything. At least, not anything new. The ironic thing is, grief has been so heavy for me this week. Yesterday morning in the middle of a random conversation with my two year old about daddy, I burst into tears, which turned in to full-out sobbing by…
widow
There’s No Place Like Home ……
…… even if it’s a brand new home. And sometimes …… especially if it’s a brand new home. (Not new as in newly built, but new as in new to you.) As most of you know, I’ve been splitting my time between Houston and New York City. And I’ve loved being in NY. I’ve always loved being in NY, but now I love it for additional reasons. And the…
A legacy of kindness….
I recently read a book (and then watched the movie) called “Cloud Atlas” by David Mitchell. I count it as one of my top ten reads of all time. It’s not an easy read, either in content (lots of death and savagery), nor in lightness (its complex, you can’t afford not to be 100% focused on the story or you will miss something important).But this…
Hakomi
Every time I dissolve into tears and those tears, instead of cleansing, dissolve into more tears and a spiral down into depression and anxiety, I realize I’m worrying about the same things. I’m stuck. It’s the SSDD syndrome: Same Shit, Different Day. I KNOW worrying about the future is pointless. I KNOW accepting myself is crucial. I KNOW I’ll…
Insomnia
Ugh. Insomnia. We have been enemies friends for six very long years. I have tried sleeping pills. I have tried everything natural. I’ve tried having a normal routine. I’ve tried to not let myself lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for longer than 30 minutes before I get up and read, take a hot shower, attempt something to help me sleep. …
Solution
I’ve recently been on the search for a new home. It’s not a long distance from my current casa, but in an area I love and come alive in. During many of the showings of the houses I’ve found enticing, I’ve been bombarded with one question over and over from my brokers (aka parents). As we entered each place and I’d point out something I loved, they…
Numbers
I am jealous of old people. Every single old person that I see walking down the street. I am jealous of them. The bitter ones. The wrinkled up, exhausted by life ones. The healthy ones. The sick ones. The ones who have made it into their late 80’s or even early 90’s, and who are still walking side by side with their partners. The husband…
A picture is worth…
. …1000 words. Or, so they say. Whoever ‘they’ is. But, I think a picture is worth so much more than that. A picture doesn’t just convey an endless amount of words, but it can also capture an emotion that no words can describe. It can preserve a memory that might otherwise have been forgotten. It can make you laugh or cry just at the very sight…
Like a Wheel Within a Wheel ……
…… these are our wedding rings. A circle in a circle. I had them put together like this at about 9 – 10 months out. I wear them on a necklace. I haven’t worn them in a while, but lately, I’ve felt a strong pull to wear them. A lot. I don’t know why and I’ve learned to not question things that I feel pulled to do. I have also felt the…
All the dumb things*
… people say. Last week, a teacher I like and respect was chatting to me in the staff room before school. She said “I’ve been widowing all weekend because my husband was away. Amanda, I don’t know how you do it”. ..and I know, I KNOW that these kinds of comments often make the collective blood of widows begin to simmer.But I didn’t bite…
Scary
Everything is so damn scary for me these days. Just speaking up and saying what I think feels like too much of a risk. It’s as though my confidence died with Dave. I know I’m courageous only because I can see now that I acted many times since Dave died despite nearly crippling fear. But I don’t feel courageous. I feel so scared that I want to curl…
Selfish
I’ve been meaning to write this blog.. but I have been processing it. A couple of weeks ago, I went on a date (gasps). During the course of dinner, the topic of how my husband died came up. My date started talking about how selfish suicide is and how I live in the past by “celebrating” my husband’s death every year. I sat…