…. a cure-all. For grief. Or for anything that goes along with grief …. like an aching heart, feeling lonely, wanting your spouse back, or feeling misunderstood.Finding love again is wonderful in so many ways. Ultimately it makes you feel like a woman again, rather than a widow (or, I imagine, like a man, rather than a widower). But it…
widowed new love
When the Heartache Ends
I have been wondering lately if being happy limits the freedom I feel to still mourn Phil’s death. I have the feeling that “others” expect that my current happiness will cancel out the residual sadness that still exists in my heart over the loss of a man I loved so much. Yes, I realize this is MY issue. The thing is, I am happy. And yet, I am also…
Throwing in the Towel
I have often said that anyone whose spouse has died should receive an automatic, lifetime, get-out-of-jail-free card. This card would be used for things like avoiding leaking faucets, flat tires, broken fences, faulty plumbing, and critters stuck under the house or in the chimney. This all purpose pass should also free the bearer from: teenage…
Not Quite Good Enough
Ah yes, the List of Requirements…it sounds so very like something out of Hogwarts, and in fact the original list Michele described yesterday was crafted by a couple of witches for certain! I do have to admit to a sense of shame after reviewing the first list, were we really so shallow? No, we weren’t. But the first list was written as a…
Good Enough?
One of the most amazing things about having a widow friend to share this bumpy road with is that I always have someone with whom to discuss the daily questions of life. One issue that has occupied Michelle and I (pictured here right after the Widow Dash in San Diego) is the concept of good enough. When you feel that life has already given you an…
Finally…
Yep – that’s me at the steering thingy, getting ready to park the boat. I mean moor it or anchor it or whatever it was that we were doing. Anyhow, it finally happened. Our first fight. On the boat. Our first honest-to-goodness fight. After it was over, and we had both listened, (at least I think I listened), I said to him “Wasn’t that great? We had…
What Kind of Man?
What kind of man is capable of loving a widow? Would he always wonder if he measured up to the dead man whose image has a prominent place in my bedroom? How would he handle the mention of said dead husband in everyday conversation? At some point would he tire of having to be patient while a grief wave rolled, unannounced, over his girl? What would…
What Kind of Closet?
There are lots of things we put in closets. There are things you expect to find inside like sweaters, dresses, and shoes. Then there are the other things that you can’t find a place for like old yearbooks, memory boxes, or last year’s tax returns. Perhaps there are mothballs, spiderwebs, or the odd price tag from a purchased item….all of this you…
WINGS and Things
My coach once shared a quote with me that said, “Take the Leap and Build the Wings on the Way Down.” That was in 2006, about a year and a half after my husband Rory passed away, when I found myself at a major crossroad both personally and professionally. To bottom line it, I knew I had to make significant changes in the way I worked, how much I…
Death by Sunburn??
My (rather new) significant other is a geologist. A few months ago, he left (Martha’s Vineyard) for the desert West of Palm Springs CA to do field work. He called me each day, either before he left to do field work in the desert, or after he returned. All was well. I was, and am, bonkers over him. I enjoyed our telephone connection. We were a new…
Anniversaries
We often see or hear the phrase “Happy Anniversary”, don’t we? Venture into any card store and you’ll find an assortment of cards depicting the phrase “Happy Anniversary”. Fortunately, I did experience “Happy Anniversaries” in my marriage, and I could buy those cards, and for that I am grateful. Tomorrow would have been my 15 year…
Ouch
I have been on my back for the last 3 weeks or so, nursing an inflamed sacroiliac joint. What a pain! Literally. Every turn and twist, every journey to the bathroom (all of 25 painful feet) and every trek to the kitchen elicits mild and not-so-mild expletives. Thankfully, my daughter is in school and the walls are my only witness. Of course, lots…