AKA "The Writing Woman"
As the sixth anniversary of Rick’s death approaches, I realize I’ve had many shifts in my attitude about how I view my life here alone. For about the first two years, my whole identity was that of a widow. I was still part of a couple, one of us just wasn’t living. I continued to participate with most of the … Read the blog
I came across videos of a trip Rick and I took 14 years ago this month. He knew going to Cornwall to explore the land of my ancestors had been a life-long dream and we spent five glorious days in England. We then met up with my son and his wife to explore several other countries in Europe. It was … Read the blog
It was like coming across something significant on an archeological dig, that’s how this morning’s discovery felt. I was cleaning out the food cupboard where all the baking needs and oils and such are stored. So many packages have passed the expiration date because I rarely cook complicated meals for myself here alone. I make quick things – frozen low-carb … Read the blog
t happened again. I went on another first date that didn’t leave me wanting a second. The man was intelligent and ambitious, polite and friendly. But there was no spark, and, when I got home afterwards, I realized that I hadn’t laughed once. Not once. And I have that kind of sense of humor that finds just about anything funny.… Read the blog
The Golden Years
I never thought I’d be alone
In the golden years…
This stage of life we longed for
Retired from the nine to five drudge
Free to do anything we wanted.
When we looked towards the future,
we saw beaches and travel
More of this!
We said, when we took that three-week trip to Europe
Some day, we’ll … Read the blog
The fuchsia-pink pool noodle Rick bought me is starting to decompose around the edges. The memories of that last vacation we shared are starting to fade around the edges, too.
How can a pool noodle come to mean so much to me? How does it symbolize our love? Or his personality? Or how much he cared for me?
Can I … Read the blog
Five years ago today, I held Rick’s hand in a death grip. A literal death grip, for hour upon hour. By noon of that day, I realized he was going to die, and he did, at 8pm that night.
The night before, alone in my bed, I had an odd feeling. A scary feeling. A feeling like my life was … Read the blog
This past Tuesday was our 25th wedding anniversary and I celebrated alone, sitting under the windchimes in my gazebo. A small portion of Rick’s ashes are in the chimes, so I always feel like he’s with me when I sit there. It was his favorite place to sit in the evenings, so I thought it was the perfect location to … Read the blog
The impact of Rick’s death has lessened as the years go by. That’s only natural. I’ve always been a firm believer that time really does heal all wounds, although not as quickly as we would like (and I definitely formed that opinion before experiencing widowhood). But certainly the enormous and raw pain I felt daily in the first months and … Read the blog
I was watching a Brene Brown video and she talked about how everyone wants to have extraordinary experiences, but how the little things in life really matter more. She said that after stunning life events, like near-death experiences, the death of a loved one, or other traumas, in the aftershock, what we miss are the ordinary moments before the event … Read the blog