Six years ago my husband died in a tragic accident (is there any other kind really?). I woke up the next morning, and felt certain that I had been dreaming. With my eyes closed, I slid my hand across the bed to Phil’s side, and felt the cold sheets where his warm body used to lie. I wasn’t dreaming. The pain of his absence was searing. There were…
widowed suddenly
A Look Back
I was looking through some old posts today and this one caught my attention. I wrote it on December 18, 2008. One year after Jim died. I wrote about that year, and how far I/we came in those 365 days. I thought I had come a long way. I had no clue. None. I still had so much further to go. But still …. after reading it today …. that’s what…
Third Year
This weekend I’ll be at the Austin City Limits Music Festival. 8 stages, over a hundred bands, but to me it is so much more. Last October, my best friend (and fellow widow) and I ventured out on the green grass, drinking wine from sports bottles, listening to amazing music, having a grief/stress free time. Of course, since Michael’s death I’ve had…
first
We made it. Through all the firsts. The firsts without Jeff at birthday parties, Christmas morning, through illnesses and accomplishments. His absence has been an aching void….almost a presence in itself. But time has continued its’ slithery journey. I look back over the time without my love and see that 365 days have gone by and no time at all…
Maybe It’s Just The Week ….
…. that is causing so many of us to feel so many more emotions right now? I don’t know. I still don’t know how this grief thing works. Or, more pointedly, how it doesn’t work. All I do know is that it sucks.It sucks that Dan’s “date” was yesterday (I just can’t use the word “anniversary” to describe the annual reminder of such a horrific day). It…
Moments
They happen…sometimes more than I think I can handle. Those moments where it feels like I’m in a well, with all the walls caving in on me. The sad thing is I see it when I’m being lowered down….like the bucket on the rope. I anticipate what will happen and still am lowered further and further down…feeling as if there is no one at the top to…
Death is not a 4 letter word
In preparation for my son’s first day of Kindergarten today, I attended an interview with his teacher yesterday. It mostly entailed questions of, “Can he tie his shoes?”, “Does he feel shy in new situations?” and “Can he wipe his own bottom?” At the end of our little meeting, his teacher asked about his special interests. I listed off his favourite…
It’s Not My Fault ….
…. that my children became orphans on December 18, 2007. OK, they didn’t literally become orphans. But technically …. they did. They lost both of their parents that day. Yes, I was here in body, but only in body. My body was empty of any resemblance of me. All it held was the cold, black grief that enveloped every part of me …. grief moved…
Proposal
You placed it onto my finger and our eyes met….making the agreement that from that point on our souls would be eternally connected….a searing of two hearts into one…no matter what lay ahead. 6 years ago you asked me the question that taught me that risk was a shorter word for following one’s heart. Nothing has been more clear or absolute.
They just don’t get it…
I make no secret of the fact that I want a permanent teaching gig at the kids’ school. I changed career a couple of years ago so that I could spend more time with my kids, and my aim has always been to work in a primary school, preferably the same one that the kids attend. But those jobs are hard to come by. So I took a position teaching maths…
Missed, Loved, and Remembered
Hi honey, Six years ago today you headed out the door for what would be your final bike ride. You checked the tires on your bike, oiled the chain, filled two water bottles, kissed me good-bye, left, came back for some unidentified thing (I still wonder what brought you back, and if those additional moments cost you your life), and then kissed me…
melancholy bed linens
Written three years ago. 17 days after Jeff died… I have been sitting in the rocking chair in my room for a period of time each day staring at our bed and crying. I am trying to muster up the courage to wash the sheets. I tell myself, “Jeff would laugh at this. He’d think I was being silly and sentimental. They are just sheets. They aren’t him.”…