AKA "The Writing Woman"
I cried when I first changed our bed sheets But any trace of your scent was long gone I’ve accepted you aren’t coming back But it’s still very hard to move on Your things are still just where you left them On the table right next to the bed The last glass you drank from…
I see the tulips in our yard And I remember When I used to be excited about spring Spring meant summer was near And summer meant time outside with you Days frolicking in the sun Evenings lounging in the sultry heat out in our yard Me swatting mosquitoes You not Smells and sounds of summer…
My latest blog post for the Hope for Widows Foundation talks about how eating a Slim Jim triggered a grief episode: https://hopeforwidows.org/2018/05/danger-grief-triggers-ahead/
Why does it hit so hard sometimes? I move along, I feel myself starting to heal – just a little, and then I’m blindsided with a grief so fresh it feels like he died yesterday. It’s 8 and ½ months today. My heart was shattered on an August Sunday nearly nine months ago. Sometimes it…
It’s all just attempts at distraction. All day long every day. Each hour brings a wrong note – discord and strife because nothing is the way it’s supposed to be. The clock ticks and each moment reminds me of what I lost. All day, my rhythms are off. All day, every day, is wrong, soul-jarringly…
The wind blows and your spirit speaks to me From the chimes under the gazebo out on our deck When I put your ashes inside (a little teaspoon of you) I had no idea How your memory would resonate with each sound throughout my days and my nights With a gentle nudge upon every breeze…
I knew each time I touched you, it could be the last And I feared with each kiss time was moving too fast And I held on tightly And I longed for the cure But you slipped away slowly Now the past is a blur And I longed for the cure that I knew wouldn’t…
Since Rick died, every time I look at the ugly blue chair, it elicits a different emotion: regret at the arguments we had about it, sadness that he’s gone, and a longing to see him sitting in it again. The blue chair was a significant piece of our history – good and bad. Rick first…
Deciding what to do with one of Rick’s tech toys triggers unexpected grief. Here’s a link to my first blog post as a contributor on the Hope for Widows Foundation website: https://hopeforwidows.org/2018/04/time-grief-and-an-apple-watch/
I’m pleased to announce that I’ve been invited to be a contributing blogger on the Hope for Widows Foundation website. I’ve found solace in writing as I work my way through the grief after Rick’s death. I hope my writing brings comfort and hope to my widowed sisters, as their support has meant a great…