I’m on my way to pick up the kids at preschool and decide to stop at Panera to grab a decaf with extra, extra cream and no sugar. I wait in line thinking about all that I have accomplished in my kid-free two and a half hours when I hear the woman in front of me order a Sticky Toffee cookie. I’m transported back in time.I’m in England…
widow's voice guest bloggers
I Don’t Like Broccoli
I’m thinking about getting a second family, one with a wife and kids. I could take out an ad in a newspaper, “Man looking for wife and kids to help him figure out his own children. Family must know man and his three children will live in another house.” That should get me married in less than two weeks.Why, do you ask, am I going all…
The F Word
F…A…T. I’m a fat widow. Yes I am. You don’t need to give me an awkward smile and insist that I’m not a fat widow. I am and I own it. I give other widowed people a bad name. I shatter the image of the grief-ridden widow/widower by eating and actually enjoying it. And I’ve been doing this for nearly three years now. I feel…
The Closer
I want to be a closer in baseball. Or at least I want to think like one. I was watching a game on TV and one of the best closers in baseball gave up back to back home runs and his team lost the game. The next night he gets another chance to close out the game. This time: he walks the first batter, hits the second batter, and the third batter…
Midnight in Paris
I walked by the building, intentionally, on the way home from seeing Woody Allen’s new film “Midnight in Paris”, a poetic reflection on the seeming attraction of former eras. The access to the building is now sealed. Not just boarded over with plywood that I could pry loose. Not even with brick that I might be able to chip away with the right…
Flooding
I hate to think I need bad stuff to happen to put life in perspective. Haven’t I already tortured myself enough, trying to understand painful life lessons after my wife’s passing? After three years, haven’t I come out on the other side a better person?On the three year anniversary of Lisa’s passing, my parent’s basement flooded due to…
Plus One
Not long after Chris died, I received a wedding invitation addressed to “Wendy and Guest.” It was one of the first visual affronts to my newly-acquired widowed senses. I remember looking at the envelope and wondering, “Who the heck is Wendy and Guest?” I certainly sympathize with the couple who sent the invitation. I’m confident that they…
You Can’t Fix Me
Sometimes I want to scream at people: “You Can’t Fix Me!” …because sometimes, I get so sick of hearing that I need to “look after myself” or “do something for myself” or “make it happen” or “chin up” or “forge ahead.”Sometimes it’s just too much when friends and colleagues minimize my grief in their misguided belief…
A typical day
I’m trying to keep us steady in this new normal…this Clayton’s normal…and there are some moments where I feel like we are OK, we three. We joke around. We talk about our day. We read and laugh and play. We do chores. We have a routine that ensures we joke and laugh and read and clean and play….….and I am the supreme leader with whom…
Home Destruction
On my way to my morning breakfast taco place, I had to dodge a large truck in the road carrying a huge backhoe. Oh brother, I thought. They are going to tear something up. That’s going to be an inconvenience for someone. And I didn’t pay another thought to it, at least until I drove by on my way back home just thirty minutes later. The beast…
Playing Cards
Sometimes when people learn that Maggie and I did not have any children together they say “Oh, that’s good.” Other times they say “Oh, that’s too bad.” Either way, it’s very odd to me that they feel the need to pass judgment on whether or not we have kids. It was just timing. Really! Just timing! Before Maggie’s diagnosis, we did…
I Signed Up for This?
That’s what my son likes to remind me, usually when he’s gripping a leg and pulling, while his sister is gripping an arm and pulling, and the dog is looking like he’d like to grip something…if only he had thumbs. “…just remember Papa, you signed up for this…” Funny, I don’t remember the widower, single parent, caregiver, dog…