Since becoming an involentary widow almost 8 years ago, I have changed in many positive ways. I am more empathetic. I am more sympathetic. I am less judgemental of people’s lives and situations and circumstances. I listen better. I stop to talk with people more. I find more meaning and beauty in very tiny things. I exist in the moment…
widowed dad
Boilerplate Questions
If nothing else, 5 years down the road, I still have many questions and few answers. The amount and content of said questions only grows with time. Many of them are “what-ifs”, and still more are “what-woulds”. “What if they hadn’t died?” is the first question for almost everyone. I can confidently say that it will never be…
Why me? Why not ‘‘‘me?
After our income fell drastically, we moved into a one-bedroom apartment at a great location; it’s only a 20 minute walk to Anisha’s school. However, it is not a big, character home like the ones her two best friends live in. Recently she said, “I wish we lived in a big house like my friends.” I can’t describe how hard the…
Heads or Tails
It is easy enough for most of us to identify with our own, “widowed” side of the story. We’re the ones left behind when our partner dies. We are all suddenly single parents, sole breadwinners, alone, scared, and confused. It doesn’t matter if we’ve had years to accept the impending death, or minutes. But, what if we were on the other…
Coasting
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,…
Self-Caretaking
For much of my life, I have been what can best be described as “grumpy”. I’ve tended to over-react and or see the worst in things, and myself. Something as simple as going to the grocery store brought out a part of me that only wanted to see the worst of humanity, followed by a reaction resembling anger, then followed by regret and shame at…
Thank You For Letting Me Talk
Why do you let my grief scare you? Why can’t I just talk about Natasha how ever I want? She was MY wife, not yours! Why can’t you just listen and try not to fix me? “You just need to focus on your daughter’s smile, and everything will be alright.” Why do you give me an arbitrary timeline and act as if it is the word of some…
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…
Comparing, Comparing and more Comparing
One of the most fundamental aspect of our species is that we are constantly comparing everything. Walking down the street, our brains are constantly comparing the faces of strangers to faces of people we know. Isn’t that? …no, she’s too tall to be her. Comparing helps us cross the street and be safe—we have an image of a safe…
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…
Love, Food and Grief
Today has been a good day so far. I love waking up and feeling passion for whatever is going to happen next in my life. Like my daughter saying, “I have a Valentine’s Day card for Dada! Here it is!” As I help my daughter get ready for school, I take a deep breath and remind myself of one simple truth; getting Anisha ready and walking…
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…