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
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
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
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
One of my new favorite shows, 1883, has the characters saying some memorable lines. Since I’m involved in a relatively new romance, some of the lines about love give my heart a pleasant little twinge. But a discussion about grief in the last episode left me sobbing in a way I haven’t in a while. It was that pleasure/pain … Read the blog
Author Joan Didion died in December. I’ve always enjoyed her writing, but I owe her a special debt of gratitude for her memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking. In it, she described the grief and pain following the death of her husband, and the lost sense of reality that resulted from her grief. (She also refers to this state … Read the blog
Grief knows no bounds. It can be triggered when you least expect it, although most triggers are obvious and predictable. After Rick’s death, I knew going into a diner, Home Depot, or Costo would be painful. I knew vacationing without him for the first time would be awful. Smelling his aftershave or seeing a large bald man would sometimes be … Read the blog
I don’t often write much here about my dating experiences or my new relationships. For one reason, this is a blog about widowhood and grief, and not about virtual dating or how to navigate the dating world. For another reason, no one would believe some of the stories I could tell. It’s been interesting, to say the least.
But the … Read the blog
Yesterday, Rick and I would have celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary. It was the third one since he’s been gone. I made it through the fog of the first one. By the second one, I had adapted to life alone, and I was beginning my foray into the dating world. This year…? How do I categorize this year of widowhood?… Read the blog
At the final session, she gave us an assignment. She’ll never see it. We’ll never share it. It was just a parting gift for us to mull over and write about, another way to gain insight into ourselves, our writing abilities, our hopes, our dreams. She said, “Write about what you’re afraid of.”
After the workshop, as I pondered … Read the blog