Tonight, I just wanted to be me.Sometimes, I just want to be me.But, not this version of me. Old me. The me that existed before July 13, 2011. The me that had a sick but random and giddy sense of humor. The me that laughed with abandon, and laughed often. The me that was easygoing and fun and carefree, sarcastic and crazy and youthful. The me…
widowed healing
Profile Picture
This week someone said that it was time to change my Facebook profile picture. My profile picture is the one above of Ian and I from our wedding, the banner picture is our 2011 Christmas Card photo.Changing my profile picture is not something I did that often anyway. I’m a bit ‘set and forget’ that way, but I was taken aback at the blunt…
A Cuppa Tea
This has been a difficult week. I have re-entered the work arena, on a ‘phased return’, as they call it, here in England, and, Tuesday, I had to go speak to someone from Occupational Health, to justify my time away, and my continuing to work part-time for a few more weeks. This meant I had to recount the story of the tragic day my husband died.
Milestones & Grief Creep
This past week one of the most amazing things happened to me that has happened in my “after” life. I was selected as a finalist for a magazine cover of an art magazine – for one of my photographs that tells part of my grief journey – and ended up winning the final vote. It is the first time my art will be published on a magazine cover. This is huge…
Winter’s Snow
On this bleak, grey, England winter’s day, I remember the comforting quiet of snow. Stan loved the snow. He would sit for hours, watching it. When we first began to talk to each other, he told me that he wanted to move to the Northeastern coast of England, near Whitby, where he said they had a ‘proper winter’. Proper winter? I had moved to England…
Redecorating
Things around the house are starting to look quite a bit different from when Ian was here. Use of rooms has been shuffled. Furniture re-arranged in various rooms. I got extra kitchen cabinets installed six months after he died – a project Ian had started trying to get quotes for, but was having no luck what so ever. And now there a new paint…
Death: the Barrier
I thought this week I would share one of the images from my self portrait series and the story behind it. While I was out shooting on the beach for last week’s photograph – wandering the grassy, windswept dunes – I came across a peculiar sight. Every plant on the beach was bright green and vibrant with life that day. Rich olive green sea…
500 Days of Missing
As of today, my husband has been dead for 500 days. That just sounds so utterly ridiculous to me. 500 days. It might as well be an eternity. During those first few weeks, each day felt like a marathon. It was the greatest challenge to make it through every. single. day. I’d lay in bed at night with a heart heavy and a broken spirit,…
My Heart
My heart is raw. It breaks open easily. It doesn’t take much. Another memory of the life I lost when Mike died. Another tragic story from another new member of our terrible club. Another heartbreak from a fellow widow having made the effort to find new love and life and been hurt. Another day of pain and sadness in a friend’s ongoing attempt to…
Healing Forward
I was talking to a widowed friend the other night about the whole idea of sharing this part of our life and how it changes over time. I remember well the first year after my fiance died. The first thing out of my mouth was this information. I told everyone and anyone. Friends, family, coworkers, customers, the mail man, police officers, the tech…
Seeing Strength
Chuck’s first anniversary just passed. We had a remembrance for him and danced for the love he left behind for all of us. But I also needed, somehow, to mark this past year in a very personal way that was about me and who I am now and who I’m becoming. Who I want to be for the rest of my life. Thinking about it became a spiritual mediation…
Time Flies….(Guest Blog – Michelle Dippel-Dahlberg)
It’s that time of year again. I’ve marched towards today for the past month and a half. Grumpy one day, fine the next – I think most of my family has felt the uncertainty of my moods but they have hung in there. This year was different for a couple of reasons – one, I forgot the day the march starts. Let me clarify that though, my conscious…