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…
widowed guilt
Whatever
I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be feeling, now moving towards year 5 since Megan’s death. Shelby is a preteen (and it certainly shows), and moves ever so closer to wanting to spend time with her friends versus us. Her brother is married with a growing family of his own, with two sons that Megan never got to meet. One of our…
Grief and Guilt
This post is actually about another chapter of my grief story… the chapter about my dad. But I’m certain that it’s something that will relate to a lot of widows, too, because it touches on a really hard subject… GUILT. While cleaning up the basement the other day, I came across a stack of old greeting cards. I’d known they were there -…
Back to the Future
It’s been four years. Four times, the earth has orbited the sun in full since Megan’s death. That seems like an eternity, and yet at times, it also feels like it was yesterday. It’s still “fresh”, yet also “routine”. If I could have foretold the future, four-and-a-half years ago, a few days before she died, it wouldn’t have…
I’ll Not be Home for Christmas
In my 38 years, I have never once not been with my parents on either Christmas eve or Christmas day. Even when I was in the military, I lucked out in that I wasn’t deployed over Christmas, and I was able to drive from North Carolina to Ohio, even if only for a 48 hour visit. Since 2002, I’ve added Megan’s family to that tradition, always…
Will I Ever Stop Asking …
Will I Ever Stop Asking Where would we be, had you not died? Will I ever stop wondering what would have happened in our life together if you were still here? Will I ever be at peace with the idea that my life is filled with questions that do not have answers? Will I ever feel okay with the knowing that large pieces of…
It’s Not Guilt, It’s Sadness
So it’s been 7 years since my beautiful husband left for work one morning, and never came home. Seven years since his shocking and sudden death. Seven years of living this life in the “after” of painful and life-changing loss. It’s a long time, and it isn’t. It’s forever, and it’s also ten seconds. In all of this time living with the death of my…
Reach Deep, Find Warmth
I have been nestled inside the winter for months, it seems. It has been so cold and dark. Even today, at the end of April, spring struggles to gain a grip, the wind and rain overtaking its warm and promising breezes, painting the hilltops white, again, pouring pellets of icy hail onto the ground. This weekend, there are predictions of frost.
Claiming Your Name
I already know the answer to this question, but I will ask it anyway. Do you, dear widowed friends or surviving person of anyone you loved that died, have certain specific things that still make you feel guilty? Things that you wish you had done differently? Things that maybe you regret, in the wake of the loss of the person you love? Yes. Of…
A Forgotten Card
Ian and I never particularly did Valentines day. Although I *like* getting the gifts and stuff, I never felt it a necessity. It’s a more than a bit over-commercialised to me, which is thankfully quite a protective view-point in my after. But the day still holds memories. Some good. Some that trigger a sense of guilt.John was born in the late…
Left Behind
Two years ago, on November 17th, my husband and I were getting married. It was a chilly autumn day, and the rain paused long enough for us to gather at the registry office in New Mills for our simple, beautiful ceremony. Later, we brought close friends and family to our local pub, The Beehive, for a reception and delicious dinner. No one from…
Identities
I had a session with my beloved therapist the other day. I filled her in on what had happened since I’d last seen her and then she said “What do you think about coming to see me? Do you think you’re ready for a break?” and it was as if I’d expected her to ask me.I was only slightly hesitant to say yes. She asked me what came up for me as I’d…