AKA "The Writing Woman"
One of the most difficult and unexpected things I’ve had to cope with in this grieving process is getting used to the quiet, the deafening quiet. I miss the groans he emitted as he arose from his chair or sat down again – or as he loudly clomped up the basement stairs after getting a…
I was running late this morning (nothing new about that). But today I was particularly late, and at the time I got in my car and started it up, I’m usually already sitting at my desk at work. I wouldn’t normally have been in the car when this song was playing. Timing is everything. So…
I feel like I’m at some weird crossroads in my life: the intersection of clinging to my life with Rick and forging on to my solo life ahead. My head is filled with conflicting thoughts. The pain, the grief has lessened (most days), and I’ve realized that by living without Rick for nearly ten months,…
As someone who has now survived nine months of widowhood, I decided to extend a lifeline of hope for anyone who’s in the first few month of grieving. It’s a surprising realization and something that occurred to me only this morning: It gets better. I never would have believed it in the early days –…
When Rick died suddenly last August, my son Brandon and his wife Lindsey were forced to quickly research the best way to handle explaining his death to my then 2 ½-year-old grandson, Jonas. They didn’t want to confuse him by telling him that his Papa “went away,” because he might think Papa was coming back….
Serenity was a long holiday weekend. Me floating in my pool You, off riding your bicycle Quiet, stillness, lassitude Relaxed in the giant float I bought on Amazon Peace and tranquility Summer and heat and happiness Floating, floating, floating Staring up at the blue sky Leaves and squirrels rustling in the trees Pure bliss Alone,…
I want to keep you alive I look around me and I see that there’s no way to keep you here, but I’m trying. Life shouts at me, Move on. Move on. Move on…but I don’t want to if that means leaving you behind. I know I can’t bring you back. I hate that I…
Dear Rick, Everything in this house elicits a memory. Absolutely everything. I just heard the clink of the mailbox as the postman left a delivery. We installed the mailbox. We handpicked the perfect one with the perfect finish that matched the outdoor sconces on the garage. We toted it home in the back of your…
My latest blog has been posted on Hope for Widows Foundation website. Read it here.
I’m sitting alone in the booth at the Coney restaurant. I thought I was used to it by now. I thought nearly nine months without you had inured me to eating alone, sleeping alone, existing alone. But perhaps not. I miss so much about you and our time together, but I miss chatting with you…