The concept of widowhood being a journey sometimes annoys me. Yeah, yeah, we KNOW this gut-wrenching, life-swirling, upside-down roller coaster of an experience is actually a journey! When I picture taking a journey, my mind conjures up Bilbo Baggins packing his mutton and tea and heading out into the beauty of the shire; not me rolled up in a ball…
widowed perspective
What We Can’t See …..
…. can’t hurt us, right? Or at least that’s what we thought when we were 3. (The above picture is of Son #3 at Disney World with his beloved band Aerosmith’s hat upon/over his head.) But I wonder …. do I still think that what I can’t see can’t hurt me? I think I’d have to say the answer is yes. Why else would I only concentrate on the here and…
You Don’t Look Like a Widow….
I’ve heard that statement countless times in the past almost 4 years. I wondered early on, “what do widows look like then?” I knew what I thought they looked like before: old, black dress, and so very sad and lonely. Well, I had the sad and lonely part down pat. Old and a black dress? Not so much.At conference this year, I got a good glimpse of…
A Blank Face
Phil loved watches. When he died I think there were at least ten assorted time pieces stored in various places around the house. Several work watches were stored inside his nightstand, four more called his sports cabinet in the garage home, and he stashed his ‘nice’ watches inside his top dresser drawer. He rarely left the house without a watch…
Wax On, Wax Off
It is life’s little things, the daily routines, that bring me peace in days of mental stormy weather. From vacuuming to paying the bills, they are those tiny moments we take out of our day to do the necessary (and the sometimes unnecessary) things that give my mind a break and time to focus on the doldrums before me. In what some could view as…
No fixing.
School is in session! I have looked forward to this day for over two months. Not because I want Anneke gone, because I don’t, but because with the house empty of daughter and S.O. I get to write without distraction.This past weekend, Labor Day Weekend, I really labored. I cleaned the house, washed the floors, weeded the garden, did three loads of…
What Not To Say
OK …. forgive me, but I’m cheating today. I’m copying a post I put on my blog over a year ago … just a couple of months after Jim died. I’ve had several requests to post it again, which I did on my blog earlier this year, and I thought I’d post it here, too. It was a list of the top things that my children and I did NOT need to hear, but did,…
Woman’s Intuition
Here in the North East, most public schools began their fall sessions this week. My sister, a first grade teacher, told me in an email that never in her life had she heard so much crying, five and six year olds being asked to leave their parents, many for the first time. According to my sister, “The sound of sobbing was everywhere.” I thought…
When Memories Fail Me
I remember crying silent but painful tears in the back seat of someone’s car… we were running an errand for the memorial service and barely above a whisper, I asked, “What if I forget…” they too began to weep with me. Finally, they cleared their throat to answer, “You’ll always have your memories.” I find that statement less than accurate.
I Miss Touch
I have decided to carry on Michele’s theme of “What I Miss” on Sunday. Because for the past week or so one fact has been glaring me in the face ….. and all over me: I miss being physically touched.Note that I did not say I miss being sexually touched (not that I don’t) but those are two very different things. I live in a house with two teenage…
The Death Anniversary
There are lots of fun observations to be made about the picture above…let’s not go there 😉 What I love about this picture is that it reminds me of a great day on a great vacation with a great friend. I think I’ve said before that I sometimes have to remind myself of all the good things and make a list. It’s always a long list of good things, and…
What I Have Forgotten
My journey as a widow began four years ago today. Four years seems like both an eternity, and an instant. Standing at the foot of his emergency room bed that day, watching his pulse rate drop to zero, I saw the road ahead of me very clearly. Alone. That was the word that my brain screamed. Alone. At first I didn’t want to touch his things, for…